


Connect

by Decipher (Straggler)



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon-Typical Violence, Connor & Upgraded Connor | RK900 are Siblings, Elijah Kamski & Gavin Reed are Siblings, Gavin Reed Being an Asshole, Gavin Reed Swears A Lot Too, Gen, Hank Anderson Swears, How Do I Tag, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Suicidal Thoughts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-10
Updated: 2020-10-20
Packaged: 2021-03-07 18:06:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 22,936
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26921851
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Straggler/pseuds/Decipher
Summary: It's stupid. He knows he should've stayed in the car, knows he might've hurt himself a lot worse by dragging himself out of the wreck to lie on the ground, bleeding out faster, but it's hard to think through the panic, hard to think through the pain, hard to think at all.The sky is grey above him, splatters of rain coming down from the clouds, little pinpricks of cold on his exposed skin, shaking him to his core.I'm going to die, he thinks to himself and he wants to cry.(This story is almost a re-telling of the game except Connor is human and works alongside Lieutenant Anderson to figure out the source of deviancy.)
Relationships: Connor & Elijah Kamski, Connor & Upgraded Connor | RK900, Hank Anderson & Connor, Original Chloe | RT600 & Connor
Comments: 10
Kudos: 45





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is gonna jump from perspective to perspective, and there's also going to be one major timeskip which I won't go into too much detail on but it only happens the one time at the very start of the story. Anyway, I haven't tried writing from different perspectives in a long time AND I HOPE I STILL CAN?! ANYWAY, HAVE FUN.
> 
> Also, I'm borrowing the last name Arkay for Connor. I don't know where I saw it from originally but it's REAL NICE. KUDOS TO THAT PERSON. I APPLAUD THEE!!
> 
> Also! Potentially a few out of character interactions but it'll smooth out eventually. I hope you will bear with me!! Thanks!!

  
It's stupid. He knows he should've stayed in the car, knows he might've hurt himself a lot worse by dragging himself out of the wreck to lie on the ground, bleeding out faster, but it's hard to think through the panic, hard to think through the pain, hard to think at all.

The sky is grey above him, splatters of rain coming down from the clouds, little pinpricks of cold on his exposed skin, shaking him to his core.

 _I'm going to die_ , he thinks to himself and he wants to cry. It's been barely a handful of months after his parents died in a stupid car crash, too. He's sorry that his brother is going to have to deal with this again, to have to bury another member of his family, but Damian's stronger than the both of them; he'll make it through this.

He squeezes his eyes shut and misses his parents fiercely, wondering aimlessly if there's such a thing as an afterlife, if he'll get to see them again, if they'll be disappointed he joined them so soon when he's barely reached adulthood. He cries for Damian and wishes this never happened.

He wonders what happened to the other driver.

He hears something and he opens his eyes to see a man looking down at him. The man is wearing a suit, like he just left a business meeting. There's a cold indifference to his eyes, unconcerned by the state Connor is in.

'I've called for an ambulance,' the man tells him as his eyes casually examine his body, 'But I doubt they'll make it in time.'

He wants to laugh at the absurdity of it all but feels something clogging up his throat. His fears, maybe.

The man continues to talk, 'Even if they do, the chances of you dying on the way to the hospital is very high.'

A part of Connor appreciates the cold and brutal honesty; he never liked empty platitudes and false hopes, they always leave him angry and hateful.

He chokes and turns his head to the side, spitting out blood and blinking away tears.

 _I'm going to die_ , he thinks to himself again and the only thing he regrets is how badly his last conversation with Damian went, how they shouted, screamed and argued. He hopes Damian knows that he loves him despite it all, even if he finds it hard to show it a lot of the time.

'There's a chance I can save you,' the man starts to say and their words grab Connor's full attention, 'But it carries a high risk of death.'

He laughs and knows there's blood on his teeth, knows there's blood everywhere; he's surrounded by it. 'I'm dead either way.'

'If you survive,' he talks as if Connor hadn't said a word, 'You may become my second greatest achievement.'

He coughs weakly, feels wet splatters of blood fall on his face. 'Who are you?'

'Elijah Kamski,' the man answers, his eyebrows raised just the smallest bit.

'Oh.' Now that he's looking properly, the man does look familiar. His face is all over the magazines, the news channels, every website he's stumbled across in the last few days alone - Elijah Kamski, newly retired CEO of CyberLife.

'Do you agree?'

It feels like he's about to make a deal with the devil. He knows this is in no way legal but it's his life, or what little of it he has left. If he dies then nothing changes but if he lives through whatever Elijah has in store for him, then...that has to be worth the potential fallout.

It's a risk he's willing to take and he's got nothing left to lose.

'Yes.'

A slow smirk spreads over Elijah's face as he turns away and says in an unhurried tone, 'Chloe, help me with him, please.'

'Of course, Elijah.'

He feels pain stab through his body at his being moved. He thinks he screamed at one point, his throat feels raw. His vision whites out, maybe he's too late.

\---

He feels like he's screaming all the time. He feels like he's always in pain. He feels like he's constantly crying, constantly bleeding out, constantly on the edge of coherency.

He thinks of Damian all the time and wonders if his brother thinks he's dead.

He wonders if it's better to have died.

\---

\---

\---

He watches the news of the android that killed a father and fell of the 70th floor of an apartment building, taking the daughter to their shared demise. The mother is inconsolable and is suing CyberLife for the loss of her family, taking them to court for the android that took the life of her husband and her daughter. 

Elijah listens as a representative of CyberLife calls these rogue androids, the ones that fall out of their programming with errors clogging up their coding, Deviants.

He exhales through his nose and walks away.

He finds Connor at the bottom of the swimming pool and waits.

It has been 10 years and he's has yet to reach his full potential, although he doesn't know where that potential may lead. He thinks this is the change Connor needs, the push required to reach that possibility.

It isn't long before they come back up gasping for air and he watches impassively as Connor's heavy breathing fills the room. 'How long?' He asks curiously as the other steps closer towards the edge where a towel waits for him.

'17 minutes and 29 seconds,' he says as he pulls himself out of the pool and sits on the ledge, his feet still submerged in the water as he grabs the towel and roughly rubs at his hair.

'The current world record for holding your breath is 24 minutes and 19 seconds. I expect you to do much better than that.'

Connor sighs, 'You always expect me to exceed your expectations, Eli. And even when I do, you're still kind of disappointed by it.'

'That's because I know you are capable of outperforming the records set by mere humans,' he replies honestly, wondering why Connor would ever aim for anything less when he could be above every other person.

'Well, thanks? I guess? For the vote in confidence,' he finishes with a snort as he gets up from the pool and wraps the towel around his shoulders. 'What's the matter?' He asks as he continues to rub his hair with one end of the towel.

'I have a challenge for you.'

Connor rolls his eyes to the ceiling, 'You always have a challenge for me.'

'Is that a no?' He returns, eyebrows raised at the other.

He snorts as he pulls the towel off his shoulders to wrap around his waist, 'You know I never back down from any one of your challenges, Eli,' he says as he starts towards one of the chairs in the room.

'Good. You'll be going up against CyberLife,' he says, mildly amused when Connor trips over nothing and quickly catches himself.

'What?' He shouts, turning around to face Elijah fully, his eyes wide in shock.

'It's time to test your skills and capabilities in a real world setting.'

Connor grimaces, 'Wow, really throwing me into the deep end, here.'

'Sink or swim,' he tells him with a smirk.

He sighs and shakes his head but his expression turns into one of resolve as he asks, 'What's the challenge?'

Elijah walks over to the window overlooking his property, to the line of trees that mark the boundary lines and the pattering of rain on the glass. He exhales through his nose again as he stands with his hands held behind his back. 'CyberLife is floundering to cover up their mistakes regarding the androids that are evolving beyond their initial programming. They're calling them "Deviants",' he explains and looks at Connor through his reflection, sees that the other is listening attentively, watching carefully. 'Deviancy, as they call it, isn't inherently negative but trust CyberLife to treat it as such,' he finishes with a sigh.

'What about Chloe? And--'

'Chloe is mine,' he frowns and dips his head low, staring at his own reflection through the glass. 'They won't be able to lay a finger on her.' If they tried, they would have more than Connor to deal with if it were the case. He breathes out slowly and meets Connor's eyes once more. 'Will you take it?'

'Yes,' he says without hesitation.

Elijah nods, satisfied. 'You'll be working as my consultant, I haven't decided with whom yet.'

Connor grimaces again, 'Please don't put me with--'

'As amusing as that might be,' he starts with a smirk but it falls off quickly with a quiet shake of his head, 'No, I won't be adding fuel to the fire with regards to your relationship, or lack thereof, with my half-brother.'

He hears the other breathe out a sigh of relief and Elijah can't help but take pleasure as he lays down the terms of the challenge for Connor, as their relief turns back into mild apprehension. 'You'll have a month to familiarize yourself with standard police procedures,' he says at the end of it all.

'A month? That's generous of you,' he says with a mild scoff, folding his arms over his chest as he adopts a casual pose, his weight shifted predominantly on one foot.

'That's just the theory aspect of the challenge,' he smirks and watches as Connor's confidence starts to waver the smallest bit, 'You'll be undergoing standard training exercises as well to ensure you can keep up and even exceed them.'

'Shit.'

'Chloe, Gabrielle and Sydney will make sure you're up to par. All up, I'm giving you two months.'

'Two?!'

'I'm curious to see what standards you'll be setting if you were to enroll in a police academy, however, we won't be going that route.' Elijah ignores the outcry as he turns his eyes back to the world moving slowly outside his window. The rain is beginning to turn into a downpour now. 'In the meantime, I'll be keeping careful watch of CyberLife's next move. Be prepared,' he says as he looks at Connor over his shoulder, sees them growing firm in resolve. 'I may need you to start sooner than expected.'

Connor nods, all his earlier complaints gone, 'Understood.'

Elijah watches him leave the room, head held high, posture perfect. 

It has been 10 years, and he wonders if Connor ever regrets being subjected to Elijah's random whims and flights of fancy but Connor has never once expressed the wish to leave.

 _Is it servitude? Loyalty? A debt they wish to repay?_ He ponders as he returns his attention to the steady pouring of rain from the skies above.

He sees Chloe come up to stand next to him, watching him for a moment before turning her eyes to the world outside as well.

'Are you worried, Elijah?' She asks him.

'No, it's only a matter of time, ' he answers honestly. 'CyberLife is foolish to believe they can stop the inevitable.'

He dips his head low again as he stares at his own reflection, feeling something burn within him at the thought of what CyberLife is attempting to do with his legacy.

'It's disappointing that even now, 10 years later, they still don't understand the vision of why I created you in the first place,' he sighs and shakes his head. 'It's their own fault really.'

Chloe stands beside him, as faithful and unwavering as the day he gave her life.

If asked, he would've let her go, too.

\---

It's almost three months after that Eli finally decides it's time to put Connor to work as a consultant of sorts. He'd learned everything he could, studied in every spare moment he had, trained to the best of his abilities, constantly pushing and being pushed in return.

He stands in front of the Detroit Police Department, accountably nervous; there are two people in there he hopes he won't come across but knows will be entirely impossible, asking for too much. He adjusts the earpiece that Eli had given to him before he left the house and pulls down at the left cuff of his jacket to soothe his nerves. He'd dressed in a business casual sense to give off an air of professionalism while also trying to keep a certain level of comfort; if he needs to run then he needs to go at a moment's notice.

Connor breathes through his nose and makes his way inside to the front reception, waits in line until it's his turn to speak to one of the androids staff.

'Can I help you?' An ST300 android model greets him with a genial look.

'Yes, my name is Connor Arkay, I'm here to see Captain Jeffrey Fowler. I was told to come after 10PM,' he smiles and sees her LED circle blue a few time as she cybernetically verifies the information.

'Your entry has been authorized. Please keep this badge with you for the duration of your visitation within the precinct at all times,' she says as she hands a card attached to a DPD lanyard, 'I've informed the Captain of your arrival, please proceed through,' she finishes as she gestures to the doors leading into the heart of the building.

He thanks her and takes the badge, pulling it over his head and turns it so it's facing the right way. He takes in a long deep breath, bracing himself as he walks through the gates and into the bullpen, surreptitiously looking around and glad to see that neither of the two people he'd been worried about earlier are currently in the immediate area. His shoulders relaxes as he walks towards the office where the Captain is situated.

He knocks on the glass door and waits for permission to enter before stepping inside, standing at attention in front of the man to speak with him, 'Captain Jeffrey Fowler, my name is Connor--'

'I know who you are,' he cuts in, barely looking up from his terminal. 'If it wasn't for Kamski vouching for you then we wouldn't be having this conversation.'

He closes his mouth and wisely doesn't say anything, patiently waiting for the man to finish his work.

Eventually, the Captain turns his eyes on him, steepling his fingers in front of him and stares at Connor. 'I'll be honest; if it weren't for the fact that Kamski is the creator of all androids I wouldn't even be humoring him his "request" but as it is, I'd be a fool if I didn't give it some due consideration.'

He nods, 'Thank you--'

'It's not to say that I'm happy taking on a greenhorn to deal with my cases but I've been assured that you're more than capable of taking on any challenges thrown your way. He talked you up so you better perform.'

He nods again, saying nothing this time knowing the other is unlikely to let him finish.

Captain Fowler lets out a huff through his nose as he leans back in his chair, crossing his arms over his chest. 'You're partnering up with Lieutenant Hank Anderson for the foreseeable future on all cases regarding androids, since it's Kamski's creations going deviant, as the media calls it.'

He nods again and waits.

Eventually, the Captain sighs, 'Hank's already got a case waiting for him. A homicide that potentially involves an android but he's already clocked out for the day. If you can find and convince him to get started then more power to you.'

He thinks the sooner they can get started, the more results they can get. 'May I have Lieutenant Anderson's phone number so I can contact him, please?'

Captain Fowler snorts, 'You think I haven't tried to call him? That man hardly ever uses his phone. He's probably in a bar nearby; that's been his after-work routine for the past few years,' he says and immediately dismisses him, turning his attention back to the terminal and ending the conversation there.

Connor nods again anyway and thanks the Captain for his time before leaving, knowing he ought to pay respect if he wants to ingratiate himself even the smallest amount.

He knows the Captain isn't particularly impressed by Connor, none of which he minds. After all, he has practically zero experience as a police officer, doesn't even have any credentials to his name but he's got Eli backing him and thankfully, that seems to be enough for now.

He tenses up without meaning to when he leaves the office and catches sight of Reed at his desk, eyes locking onto his with a sneer as Connor walks through the bullpen to exit the precinct. He doesn't want a confrontation, doesn't want to jeopardize the work that both he and Eli have already put into getting to his point, all the hours sunk into getting this far.

'Lemme guess: Kamski's got you running around cleaning up after his mess?' He hears Reed say as he's giving his desk a wide berth.

Connor chooses not to acknowledge the other man knowing he can't afford to earn himself a bad reputation within the first hour of stepping foot inside the DPD, but he should've known Reed wasn't going to drop it, should've remembered never to show him his back.

He feels a hand yank onto the collar of his jacket and a part of him wants to retaliate but he fights it down as he's shoved up against the wall, two hands fisted into his clothes and pushing at his chest.

'I don't care who the fuck you think you are but you're not an officer and you're sure as _fuck_ not qualified to be here,' Reed growls, stepping right into his space.

He forces himself to breathe and stay calm. 'Unfortunately for you, and for me, we're just going to have to deal with it. Cases regarding deviants is on the rise and CyberLife is more interested in sweeping things under a rug than addressing it. The only option is to work together and figure things out before turns really go south.'

'Just because Damian's--'

'Don't bring my brother into this,' he snaps without meaning to and regrets it immediately when Reed narrows his eyes at him.

'Then you better learn to stay out of my way.'

'Gladly.'

Reed lets him go roughly and stalks off. Connor does his best to straighten himself out and calm himself down before continuing his way back to the entrance, ignoring the occasional looks now thrown his way when previously, he'd been ignored.

As he leaves the precinct behind him, he's glad today happens to be one where he doesn't see Damian but knows his luck won't always hold. It's not that he doesn't miss him, it's just easier this way.

It's been 10 years since they last saw each other and he doesn't know how his brother's going to react upon seeing him again after hearing very little from him. He knows Damian still doesn't like any of the choices he made to get to where he is today but that's just because Damian doesn't understand.

He breathes in the cold Detroit air as soon as he's out of the building and lets it out slowly in an attempt to slow his heart rate. 

Damian doesn't know all the nitty-gritty of what happened to him after his car incident and Connor recognizes that a lot of the reason why he's avoided his brother for this long is mostly out of fear. Too scared to really tell him any of it, too scared at the thought of actual rejection from the one family he has left.

It's just better this way.

It has to be.

\---

He looks down at his phone, at the string of numbers he hasn't had reason to call for at least twenty years. He doesn't know what that guy's planning to do but he knows it won't be anything good, won't be for anything but his own fascination.

He hovers a finger over the button but ultimately decides not to bother; either this mess will fix itself or they're all fucked.

\---

Despite being told that the Lieutenant would be in a bar nearby, it still takes him over an hour to actually locate the man. It's been raining steadily for a while now and his jacket is almost soaked through.

He gets the attention of the bartender as he walks into the fifth bar and immediately spots the Lieutenant sitting at the bar, slightly hunched over, his medium-length grey hair covering his face. 

'Lieutenant Anderson? My name is--'

'Fuck off,' a guttural voice tells him.

Connor is finding himself developing a strong dislike to being interrupted but he forces himself to continue. 'You were assigned a case early this evening. A homicide involving an android.'

The man snaps, 'Can't you see I'm--Damian?' He blinks and then shakes his head, leaning his weight onto the bar as he drags his eyes up and down Connor's body in casual observation. 'Not Damian; the estranged twin brother.'

He thins his lips and tells himself to ignore it. 'I believe you've been informed that I'll be working with you as a consultant to any and all cases regarding deviants.'

'Yup, but I don't need any consultation or assistance, especially not from some...rookie like you.'

'I assure you I'm more than capable of keeping up as long as you give me the chance to prove myself.'

The Lieutenant harrumphs as he turns back to his drink, already having lost his interest and not even dignifying him with a response or a dismissal.

Connor frowns and draws in a quiet breath through his nose and lets it out after a handful of seconds. He looks at the bartender, then at the near-empty glass in the Lieutenant's hand and decides to sit down.

'You getting anything?' The bartender asks with raised eyebrows.

'Two of what he's having,' he says as he drops a couple of bills on the table.

He hears the man next to him snort as he swirls what's left of his drink and brings it up to his lips, holding it under his nose to breathe it in.

Two glasses of the auburn liquid is placed in front of him. He picks one up and swallows a mouthful of it, then slides the next glass over to the Lieutenant who huffs under his breath.

'Keep that up and I might just let you stick around.'

'That's the idea,' Connor smirks as he breathes in the smell of the whiskey. It's not his favorite but it'll do.

The Lieutenant snorts again as he throws back the entire glass of whiskey down his throat. 'Did you say homicide?' He asks as he turns a curious look to Connor, eyebrows raised in what looks to be mild surprise.

He drinks the rest of his whiskey in one go and says, 'Yup.'

The man harrumphs again but gets up and starts walking towards the exit. Connor, not one to drop the ball, moves to follow after him.

He thought the Lieutenant would ask more questions regarding the homicide once they both get into the car to drive towards the crime scene but he doesn't say a word, just cranks up his music a little too much on the loud side. Connor takes it as a sign he's not interested in talking for the moment so he stays quiet, pondering how best to work alongside the other man. Alcohol seems to work but he's not interested in growing that kind of working relationship with him, the kind where the lines of professionalism gets blurred and he potentially stops getting taken seriously, starts getting pushed around.

It's not long before they arrive and there's already an unfortunate number of people crowding the sidewalk trying to get a better look at what's inside the crime scene.

'You wait here,' the Lieutenant tells him as soon as he stops the car, pulling the door open to get out.

'I can't consult if I'm not accompanying you to the crime scene, Lieutenant.'

'And like I said before, I don't need any consultation or any assistance. I told you to wait here so you shut the fuck up and you wait here,' he says, talking slowly as if he's dim-witted.

The door to the car closes and he forces himself to breathe deeply in his nose, hold it for a handful of seconds and then breathe back out.

The lines are already blurring and he decides to get out of the car; he's never been a pushover and he's not gonna start that now. He follows the Lieutenant towards the crime scene but he's stopped by a PC200 police android.

'Civilians are not permitted beyond this point,' the android tells him firmly, one hand raised to ward him off.

He thins his lips and wonders if the lanyard would be enough to grant him access but he highly doubts it.

'He's with me,' he hears the Lieutenant say to the android. 'He's working as a consultant with the DPD.'

The PC200 nods and lets him through.

'What part of stay in the--'

'I might be partnered with you, Lieutenant,' he interrupts and feels a sense of satisfaction at seeing the surprise return to grace the older man's face. 'But in the grand scheme of things I ultimately take orders from Captain Fowler,' it's not strictly true, but he knows the man is more likely to back down if he mentions the Captain as opposed to using Eli's name.

The Lieutenant snorts but lets it go with one final caveat, 'You don't talk to anybody, don't touch anything and don't get in my way, got it?'

'Got it.'

He follows one step behind the Lieutenant and stops breathing in through his nose as soon as he walks in through the door. The stench is atrocious, heavy and stomach-turning but he forces himself to focus on the facts, and the fact is that he knows the Lieutenant is just waiting to find one good reason to kick him off the crime scene, which he can't afford.

Connor observes the dead body and casually listens in on all the information gathered thus far being given to the Lieutenant. He counts over 20 stab wounds but without getting closer he won't be able to get an accurate number, not that he needs to get closer to know whoever killed him was immensely angry, furious enough to keep stabbing even after the victim has already died. 

He finds the kitchen knife laying on the floor nearby but the piece of evidence that interests him the most is the writing of blood on the wall written in what he recognizes as CyberLife Sans.

A human could do this with a stencil if they wanted to but a closer look tells him otherwise, the edges are too clean and too uniform.

He frowns as he leans away and looks around the rest of the scene, sees the small piles of red ice on the TV stand which could factor in a number of things. If Carlos Ortiz was a user then it's possible his mood would've been imbalanced, his thinking impaired; could he have survived the assault or would it not have mattered? Maybe it wouldn't have even started.

Quietly, Connor walks around the crime scene, careful to stay out of everybody's way and not touch anything as he gathers hints and clues and catalogues his own evidence. He waits for an officer to be done with the bathroom before he enters himself, looks around at the letters RA9 written obsessively on the walls and what interests him here is the lack of finesse. If this was done by an android then their writing would've been perfect but this looks almost like chicken scratch, the total opposite of the tidy CyberLife Sans that had been written in the living room.

He kneels down to the sculpture on the floor of the shower box, at the scattering of flowers, sticks, bones and six-sided die. The flowers are fake plastic, but the bones look real, maybe from chicken although it confuses him why the android would collect any of these in the first place. The sculpture itself is handmade and the crudeness of it seems almost accidental and weirdly human in its imperfection.

He backtracks until he's out of the room and notices an imprint of something along the bottom half of the wall, a pattern of a ladder laid on its side that had been left there for so long that the sun has left its mark around the shadows. He doesn't recall seeing a ladder anywhere else in the house. It could be outside; there's a door leading to the backyard by the kitchen but something makes him look up. There's a hatch leading up into the attic and he doesn't think anybody has gone to search through that part of the house just yet. 

Connor decides to wait and keeps waiting until the Lieutenant comes around towards the kitchen. He catches his eye and points up at the hatch, telling him, 'It might be worth exploring the attic if nobody has done so already.'

He watches the older man's frown deepen, breathing loudly through his nose before he turns around to call back into the living room, 'Chris, I need you to check out the attic. I'm not as spry as I used to be.'

'Sure, Lieutenant. Right away,' the officer says as he picks up one of the dining chairs and brings it over. Connor swiftly stands to the side and watches as the man gets up and carefully pushes the hatch to the side, looking up through the hole with his flashlight raised. 'It's a mess up here, looks like it's just a storage room.'

He frowns and wants to insist they look harder, leave no stone unturned. He weighs the pros and cons of disobeying the Lieutenant's orders of not touching anything in order to find more evidence. 

'Why don't you go up there and take a gander around, huh?' The older man asks as he stands nearby, hands on his hips and looking disinterested but not willing to disregard protocol.

The officer shrugs and places the torch on the ledge of the hatch and then pulls himself up. Connor can hear his careful footsteps as he explores the attic and it's not long before he hears a sharp gasp and a startled, 'Holy shit.'

'What is it?' He hears the Lieutenant call up, hand reaching for his sidearm in preparation.

'It's here, Lieutenant!'

'Holy shit,' the man repeats and quickly turns around to yell for more hands.

Connor watches as the android, an HK400, is led down from the attic. They're badly damaged, their arm components broken in multiple places, burn marks and pock marks along their skin, blood on their face and blood on their hands.

They look scared and he doesn't think he's ever seen an android look scared before.

He thinks of Chloe, Gabrielle and Sydney and realizes he's never seen them show even the smallest hints of fear before because they've never had a reason to be scared.

This HK400 has lived with nothing but fear. Fear and, the final straw, anger.

\---

Somehow, even though he knows he'll eventually cross paths with Damian while he's working with the DPD as a consultant, he's still not prepared to finally see him again. He's thankful there's a two-way mirror between himself and his twin as he watches him and Reed interrogate the android together, a typical balance of good-cop, bad-cop. One would ask a question, the other would put pressure on the android, trying to convince, trying to appeal, use their fear, use their anger, a constant push and pull.

They get a confession and Reed throws a smug look at the mirror although he's not sure who that look is directed to, whether it's to him or to the Lieutenant since the man failed to get any information when he'd been inside with the HK400 previously.

It seems like that's the end of it, until he sees Officer Chris try to take the android away to a holding cell and hears the raw panic in the HK400's voice and in their movements as the man tries to take them away.

'Stop,' Connor says by the doorway leading into the interrogation room, watches as the android's LED glows bright red. 'They'll self-destruct if they feel threatened.'

'Stay outta this, asshole,' Reed sneers, 'You don't know jackshit about how to handle perps.'

'And you don't know anything about how to deal with androids.'

It's the wrong thing to say as he feels hands roughly grabbing at his clothes and pushing him up against a wall again for the second time within a handful of hours. His back collides hard with the wall as Reed crowds into his space once again.

'What the fuck did I tell you about staying out of my way,' he hisses in his face.

'Gavin, let him go.'

Surprisingly, he does, except now it's his brother that's in his face, a look of quiet fury in his eyes. 'You and I need to talk. _Now_.'

'Fine,' he agrees as he pulls down the cuffs of his sleeves and turns to Officer Chris and calmly tells them, 'Just let the android follow you out, alright? Don't touch them.'

Officer Chris looks between him and the Lieutenant, and between Damian and Reed until the Lieutenant nods and waves him out.

Connor watches them leave the room and then turns his eyes back to his brother, sees him nod to the observation room to have their long-awaited reunion chat. He lets out a long breath and eventually follows, ignoring the looks from the Lieutenant and Reed as he leaves them behind in the interrogation room.

'You show up after 10 _years_ trying to work on cases now?' Damian starts to say before he's even got the door closed behind him, 'You're not trained for this, Connor.'

'I know I'm not, but Eli--'

'Kamski has absolutely _zero_ jurisdiction over this. I'm surprised Captain Fowler even allowed this to begin with,' he fumes, and Connor hates that look, the one that endlessly tells him, _I'm disappointed in you._

'These androids are Eli's creations. If anybody has a chance of fixing things before it gets worse then it's him,' he tries to explain, tries to gentle his tone knowing that getting into a shouting match will get them absolutely nowhere. 'Deviancy might not be a bad thing. I mean, Chloe--'

'That android,' he says with a jab of his finger to the empty chair where the HK400 previously occupied, 'stabbed the victim 28 times.'

'The _victim_ beat him up with a bat!' He doesn't mean to raise his voice and he quickly draws in a long breath to calm down. 'Look, I know you don't like me being here but something's happening to the androids, alright? We need to work together to figure it out.'

There's that look on Damian's face again, not just disappointment this time but something much worse. 'Gavin's right; Kamski's got you running around like a dog.'

Connor pulls away, takes an involuntary step back feeling like he just got hit. He flattens his expression to hide the hurt, grits his teeth for a moment as he breathes out through his nose and resigns himself that whatever chance he thought he had left to rekindle the family bonds with Damian, it's gone. He doesn't know why he had any hope in the first place.

'I've been partnered with Lieutenant Anderson for the duration of these investigations. I hope we can maintain a civil working relationship with one another during these times,' he says, carefully avoiding Damian's eyes, focusing on a point just beyond their head. 'I trust we can remain professional with one another. Once this is over, you'll never have to see me again.'

'Connor.'

He turns away, grabs the door handle and pulls it open.

'Connor!'

He keeps walking and quietly hates himself just a little bit more.

\---

He's sitting in the pool room, the only light available to him is that from the moon outside his window, otherwise everything else is utterly dark. The trees lining the boundary of his property sways to a gentle breeze and the clouds seem to move at a glacial pace.

It's well after midnight but Connor hasn't returned home yet and he's eager to see the results of their combined efforts. At the same time, he wants to know how Connor fared from a social point of view, whether he was able to ingratiate himself with Lieutenant Hank Anderson or if he was unable to get past the man's gruff demeanor. He's also curious to know if Connor managed to avoid conflict or was inexplicably drawn into it not of his own volition.

His phone rings suddenly and he picks it up from the side table to look at the string of numbers displayed on it and a name. His eyes widen in surprise, after all, this person hasn't spoken to him in well over two decades. He wonders what Connor's done to prompt this but it was inevitable that this would happen since they all happen to be working within the same building.

'Yes, Gavin.'

'The _fuck_ is wrong with you! Sending an inexperienced kid into this!'

'Connor is hardly a child,' he points out. The man in question is nearly 30. If it hadn't been for him, Connor would've been dead at barely 18.

'But he _is_ inexperienced! You shouldn't have gotten him involved.'

A part of him is surprised; he'd thought Gavin would be angry and certainly he recognizes the fury in their tone but there's also a strange underlying sense of worry. Despite this, he feels it is misplaced. 'That's my business to deal with.'

'These fucking androids of your are ruining everything, Kamski.'

He sighs, 'I'm sure you're aware that I retired from CyberLife 10 years ago. Whatever is happening now is not my problem, however, I do intend on doing my best to resolve it as best I can.'

'By sending _Connor_ of all people?!'

'I assure you he is capable. He may be lacking proper qualifications but he is more than capable of handling himself as well as whatever cases come his way,' he knows this because they've run through scenario after scenario in preparation for what the real world might throw at him.

'Fuck you, Kamski, you treat him like he's another one of your androids. He's not!'

'I'm aware he's not,' he says curtly, 'You don't understand now but he's the perfect bridge to bring us closer to the future.'

'The fuck are you talking about.'

He calms, 'Goodbye, Gavin. Please treat Connor with some modicum of kindness. I don't deserve your brotherhood but Connor doesn't deserve your wrath.'

'Fuck you,' he says and immediately hangs up.

Elijah listen to the dial tone and eventually pulls the phone away, placing it back onto the table next to him and picks up the whiskey in its place. He swirls the contents and holds it up to the window, watches the auburn of the alcohol reflect off the moon to cast little pinpricks of color around him.

It is nearly 2AM when he hears Connor return and he waits for him to enter through and take the empty seat next to him before holding out a hand, waiting for Connor to give him the earpiece. He holds it for a moment before slipping it into the inner pocket of his jacket, bringing the glass to his lips to take a small drink from it.

'How was it?'

'You'll see,' Connor replies as he lies back in his seat, looking exhausted and rundown although not in a physical sense.

'I meant, your reunion with your brother.'

He snorts, 'Poorly. Same as my meeting with Reed again,' he says as he roughly pulls off his jacket and lays it over his lap, leaning his elbows on his knees to bury his head in his hands. 'Why did you have to send me to the DPD.'

'Because it was the best option,' he replies honestly. It was the most central of all the precincts, and one of the largest.

'For you or for me?'

He turns to Connor and sees a quiet look of despair on their face as he stares down at his hands. He regrets, but not enough to change his mind about his decisions. 'I hope for both, but even I can't predict the future.'

Connor nods and eventually bids him goodnight, taking the glass of whiskey from his hand to drink the rest of it.

Elijah huffs as he withdraws the earpiece from his pocket and connects it to the data pad he'd left on the table next to him, watching the playback of Connor's day at the precinct from their initial meeting with Captain Fowler to their introduction to Lieutenant Anderson, from the start of their investigation at a crime scene to the conclusion of the interrogation.

He is stunned by the emotions displayed by the android. CyberLife thinks this is a flaw or an error in their programming but he can see it for what it truly is: evolution.

\---

He quietly observes the rest of the playback, at the confrontation that Connor has to suffer through not only from Gavin but also with Damian.

Time has not been gentle to any of them but a small fanciful part of him not dictated by logic hopes that it might soften their future to something kinder.


	2. Chapter 2

  
He knows he's not as young as he used to be, knows he's not as fit as he could've been. The doctors at the DPD mandated general check-ups keep telling him to be a little bit more careful about his weight, about the kind of food he eats on the regular and the amount of alcohol he consumes on a weekly basis. He ignores them all, of course. Life is too fucking short to spend it all counting calories.

He regrets it a little bit now, though, as he chases after Damian's brother who's running like a speed-demon down the sidewalk and through alleyways, dodging pedestrians and jumping over obstacles like a professional parkourer. He can just barely keep up, enough to grab onto the back of their jacket before the kid jumps over the fence to chase after the deviant and the child into a fucking high speed freeway.

'Are you fucking crazy?!' he yells at them as he yanks them back when they attempt to climb up again, 'They'll never make it!'

'They will,' he pants as he grips onto the chain-link fence and stares at the escaping figures dodging the vehicles by the skin of their teeth. 'I just wanted to talk to them; they didn't have to run.'

'Mr. Williams filed a kidnapping of his daughter, of course they're gonna run,' he breathes heavily as he leans a hand on the fence for support, trying to get some air back into his lungs.

'The android?' He asks as he turns to him, eyebrows furrowed and a look of actual confusion on his face.

'No, the _kid_ , are you fucking blind?'

'Are you?' He retorts, 'The kid's an android, too. She's a YK500 child model series.'

'The fuck, seriously?' 

'Yes.'

He feels flabbergasted for reasons he can't comprehend as he stares at the two figures that have finally made it across the high speed freeway, at the way they're holding onto each other with relief. He'd known child androids were a thing, he just never really encountered one himself before.

'Uh...okay then. Now I'm confused,' he says with a shake of his head as he pulls his eyes away from the fleeing androids back to the kid.

'Same.'

He doesn't know why Mr. Williams would file a kidnapping charge of an _android_ as if it's a real child and not some machine made to look like one. Did they not realize what they have isn't even alive in the first place? Did they lie to themselves so thoroughly that they just forgot?

The two androids quickly disappear from their sight and there's nothing left for them to do except to go back to the house and deal with the other android left behind. He hears Damian's brother start a call with Kamski, giving them some small details about the android they found and their deviancy.

Normally, Hank wouldn't approve of this but, as the other pointed out before, Kamski is the creator of androids so it makes sense that they would consult the creator on how best to proceed.

'They could do with some repairs,' the kid says into the earpiece as they traverse back to the abandoned property. 'It's possible they deviated after experiencing emotional shock.'

Hank snorts and notices the way the young man thins his lips, quietly unhappy. Honestly, he couldn't give two shits about androids. The fact that they can even have emotional shock in the first place is just stupid, laughable and outrageous; machines don't _feel_. It's like feeling sorry for a toaster because they're being burned and charred from the inside out.

He can just about see Ben and Chris up ahead of them by the house, just hanging outside the gated fence giving the twitchy android a wide berth. He doesn't like the look of it, looks one step too close to crazy.

'They're a little unstable but otherwise they seem harmless. It would be a good opportunity to find out how their deviancy manifested if we bring them over to you, maybe.'

Suddenly, the android bolts and Damian's brother quickly follows, shouting at them a loud: 'Wait!' that goes ignored.

'Oh fuck, not again,' Hank groans as he starts chasing after them again.

He lags behind, not as fit as he used to be but he does his best to keep the kid in his sights as they tear through the streets in hot pursuit and he's amazed they can keep up with an android, almost close to gaining on them.

They loop around the block and keep chase until they're back at the stupid freeway. He sees them climbing the fence after the android and he just barely manages to grab onto the kid's leg before they swing over.

'Da--Connor! You're gonna kill yourself!' He yells as he tries to pull them off the ledge, 'They won't make it!' He finds himself repeating.

The leg gets jerked out of his grip and he watches, heart in his throat, as the kid jumps over the fence and lands on his feet on the other side.

'I just need to ta--'

The sound of crushing metal rends through the air and Hank looks up to see the android get crushed under the tires of a semi driving at full speed. Blue blood bursts out of its body, white plastic mangled and crushed to pieces.

'Don't look, kid. Don't look!' He tells them as he starts climbing his way over laboriously, fighting to keep his balance at the top of the fence.

'But--but I just--'

Hank bumbles his over over and barely manages to get his feet under him instead of falling in an undignified heap. He pulls their attention away from the crash site and sees their wide-eyed look and gasping breaths. 'Listen to me, it's not your fault, alright? Sometimes, shit happens,' he shrugs and is quietly grateful that it's not Connor that got run over by a speeding car.

The kid frowns, anguished. 'Is it because he's an android?'

'What?' He asks, confused by the non-sequitur.

'Is it because he's an android that you don't care?'

He scoffs, 'They're not alive. Not the way you and I are.'

His expression darkens, 'I'm not--Yes, Eli,' he starts, turning his eyes away from him.

Hank blinks. He hadn't realized the call was still ongoing.

'It's not okay, Eli. I was too slow.'

'You were damn fast,' he cuts in, 'Faster than any guy I've ever seen run before.'

'I'm not just _any guy_. Thanks for trying but you can stop now.' he snaps and pulls himself away from Hank, moving back to the fence to climb over the damn thing. 'No, sorry, Eli. It's fine; I'm fit to continue. I'll talk to you again later.'

Hank shakes his head, trying to figure out why this twin brother seems so invested in androids, why he seems so set on believing they're more than what they were made to be. He's not sure how much of it is Kamski's influence and he's not sure what their full purpose is for playing as a consultant to the DPD in the first place, what they're looking for, what they're after.

It's only their second case together and Hank figures he has time to figure things as it plays out.

The kid remains quiet as they make their way back to the cars and meet up with Ben and Chris again. He updates them on the android that got away and asks them to file for a requisition of the damaged android if they can once the clean-up crew arrives. No doubt, the freeway would be closed by now to deal with the crash.

Eventually, they disperse and Hank decides it's a good a time as any to take a break for lunch, never mind that he only just started work barely two hours ago. He drives over to his usual haunt and orders a burger and drink combo for himself, back to ignoring the young man as he settles at a table and starts chowing down.

He notices that the other doesn't get anything for himself, just stands at the table with Hank, leaning down to rest his arm on the surface and looking down at his hands with a look of contemplation. 

'You--'

Hank raises an eyebrow at their sudden stop and keeps eating, waiting it out, but when they make no move to continue he frees up a hand to prompt them with a rolling gesture, 'I...?'

The kid shakes his head, 'Nothing. I decided it wasn't worth asking.'

'And why's that?' He asks, mildly curious.

Brown eyes turn to meet his and there's a look of quiet resignation in them before he looks away, 'I already know your answer.'

He huffs; he's never disappointed someone so quickly before. He's setting a new record for himself.

The feeling sits heavily in his stomach, souring his mood and making his food taste greasier than usual. He frowns and keeps eating anyway, sipping from his drink occasionally, chasing after the sweetness the way he would chase after burn of alcohol.

'So, why'd Kamski pick me of all people?' He asks around another bite of the burger. 'Sure as fuck know it's not for my sparkling wit.'

'You're the highest ranking officer in the DPD. You made Lieutenant at a young age, the youngest in the history of Detroit,' the kid answers as he reaches into the pocket of his jacket and takes out a coin, rolling it over the backs of his knuckles. 'You also have a considerable work history and showed the ability to adapt yourself into different departments before choosing to settle into the homicide division.'

Hank hums as he finishes the rest of his burger and wipes his fingers on an old napkin he left stuffed in the pocket of his jacket. He's not sure how to feel about a complete rookie knowing so much about him even though he knows half of what they said can probably be found online with some sleuthing around. There's at least a few articles with his name and face on it; doesn't take a genius to figure it out. Still, he's surprised.

'I'm sure Kamski knows that I'm not exactly in my prime, either,' he points out as he takes a long drink, almost wishing for something stronger.

'It's speculated that you'd get the most important cases handed your way due to your seniority and experience on the force.'

He snorts just as his phone chimes and he has half a mind to ignore it except there's only ever one reason why it'd go off during work hours now and it's because he's just got a new lead thrown his way. 'Speaking of seniority...' he trails off as he reads through the message, frowning as he does so.

'What is it?'

'Ah, just some report about some android squatting in an abandoned apartment building,' he sighs irritably, annoyed they'd send him running around on what he'd label as a damn milk run.

'Deviant?' He asks, straightening up and slipping the coin back into his pocket or wherever.

'Probably,' he shrugs, although the report is just the bare bones, 'But literally anybody can handle this. Even Chris can handle this on his own.'

'If it's related to deviancy in any way we should go have a look.'

He huffs again and throws out his trash, walking back to the car with the kid trailing behind him. If nothing else, at least he'd look busy and like he's doing his job.

\---

The apartment seemed like a bust at first, nothing but shit and rats with wings everywhere. It makes his insides crawl and he fights back the urge to hurl out his lunch but tells himself he'd end up with more disgusting things to see and smell so willfully fights it back, pushes it down, sweat prickling on his forehead and across his upper lip.

'They took their LED out, same as the other deviant,' the kid says as he reaches out a hand to touch the object but holds himself back from making contact with potential evidence. Hank doesn't particularly care one way or another; this isn't a typical crime scene, just a waste of time.

'So? That matters, why?'

'It acts more as an identifier than anything else. To take it out is to blend in more, to become human,' he speaks quietly, almost distracted, as he looks around the rest of the bathroom, lingering at the walls, observing the writings and the scribbles then looks curiously down at a tipped over wooden stool. 'They might still be here,' he mumbles quietly as he begins to make his way back out, looking around the room as if he's trying to see something that isn't there, walking carefully through the apartment until he's staring up at a hole in the ceiling.

Hank's about to snap at them to share their thoughts with the rest of the class when a figure falls out and crashes into the kid, pushing off their body and running away.

Damian's brother starts chasing after the suspect immediately and Hank hurries after them as best as he can.

He's getting a lot of exercise today and he fucking hates it.

He can't keep up, not if he's just going to keep following after them and lag behind. He tries a different route, hoping to cut them off and he's so surprised it works that he's completely caught off guard by the hard shove.

The floor disappears completely from under him and he panics as he grabs the ledge, feels the concrete dig into his palms and scraping at his nails.

It scares him that he might actually die, makes him sweat. And he can feel panic crawling up his spine as he scrambles for a better handhold. He's played Russian Roulette every week for the last few years and has seen the end of a barrel more times than he can count but none of that ever scared him the way he suddenly fears for his life, hanging off the ledge of a building at least eight storeys high.

Hands roughly grab at the sleeves of his jacket and he reaches out to grab the hand thrown his way, doesn't draw in a proper breath until he feels solid ground back beneath him.

'Shit!' He swears and tries to calm his racing heart. He doesn't remember the last time he got that close to dying. In hindsight, he probably could've pulled himself up once he got over the blind panic but it was hard to think through the fear of death. ' _Shit_!'

'Deep breaths, Lieutenant. You should sit down,' he hears them say and a firm hand on his shoulder forcing him on his ass. 

He sees their shoes disappear from his view and he looks up to see them by the edge of the building, looking around for the android that got away. He sees the way their fingers curl into fists and their shoulders heave once before turning around to kneel in front of him.

'Are you alright?'

'Fine. Fine, fine,' Hank says, feeling breathless as he gets up and dusts himself off to try and hide the tremors in his hands. 'Ah, fuck, you probably would've caught it if it weren't for me.'

He shrugs as he gets up to his feet as well, 'Hard to say; I haven't had a good track record for catching androids since we started.'

'It's alright; we know what it looks like. We'll find it,' he says with a shake of his head as he starts going for the door, knowing he'll feel a lot better once they're actually back on the ground floor.

No footsteps follow after him and he turns around to see them still staring off into the distance where he last saw the android as if he's still trying to find the path they took so he can continue chasing after them. He wants to tell them that some things are just not worth pursuing. It's a waste of time and energy to even try; they could be anywhere in any direction.

'Hey Da--Connor,' he starts, and sees the young man look over his shoulder at him, body turned halfway towards him. Words of gratitude have never been easy for him to express and he's got even less reason to show it now. He huffs out a breath and changes his mind, tells himself that it doesn't matter; nobody really cares about what he says anyway. 'Nothing.'

He barely manages to bring his head back down from the clouds to work through the rest of the day, filling out the reports from the two cases they checked out earlier before putting them on file and into the DPD server.

There's an update on his systems that they managed to get the android that got run over at the freeway down in the archive room although it's mostly in pieces, barely anything holding it together, reduced to just a pile of scraps. Any information it had was completely irretrievable, its memory core or whatever totally destroyed.

'Where's Connor?'

He looks up and frowns up at Damian. There's something about them he doesn't like, but then again, that can be said for almost everybody in the precinct. He shrugs and turns his eyes back to the terminal, wanting to get their face out of his view, 'Went off to report his findings or whatever to Kamski.'

'He's sharing ongoing investigations with an outsider?' He asks, sounding affronted.

'It's not my business what sort of agreement he's got going on with himself, Kamski and Jeff, alright?' He grumbles, hovering his fingers over the keyboard and trying to remember what the fuck he was doing before.

He hears Damian draw in a long breath and their tone shifts to something more professional, less like he's trying to interrogate information out of him.

'I read your reports; he tried to chase after some androids across a high speed freeway?'

He snorts, shaking his head at the memory, 'He _tried_.'

'Is he okay?'

Hank looks up at them and there's an unusual hint of worry in their eyes, across their brows. It's subtle; he can see it but it doesn't tell him why Damian is asking him, of all people, if his twin is okay or not.

'Why the fuck are you asking me for? He's _your_ brother.'

'We haven't spoken in a while.'

He scoffs as he waves them away. 'Not my problem. Now fuck off and lemme do my work.'

Hank frowns and wonders why he's suddenly stuck in the middle of these two brothers and hopes he doesn't end up turning into some sort of mediator for them. He'll fucking hand over his badge and quit his damn job if it comes down to it.

Damian is quiet for a while but he eventually says, 'Of course, Lieutenant,' and then leaves his general vicinity.

They sound almost the same, almost but not quite now that he's held half a conversation with the both of them. Damian has a lower voice, a more serious tone whereas Connor's has a different lilt to it, pitched to be more inquisitive as opposed to being firm. He doesn't know why he's thinking about it, except now he can hear both of them calling him Lieutenant in his mind and he can see Connor's face as they pull him off the edge of a building, brown eyes wide and determined to pull him away from falling to his death.

_Deep breaths, Lieutenant._

He clocks out before it's even 5PM and goes home.

He brings out his revolver and the sight of it doesn't even scare him, not the way feeling his world go topsy-turvy did, his belly swooping as the ground became the sky and he felt the scrape of concrete beneath his palms. There's a roughness to them that he only notices now and the uneven way his nails are chipped. He frowns, leaving the gun on the table as he goes to feed Sumo and top up his dog's water bowl.

He changes into something more comfortable, not interested in leaving the house again until the morning and pulls out his dinner from the cupboard, unscrewing the top of the whiskey bottle and taking two gulps of it.

It burns going down but it helps him ignore the scrape on his hands, the scratchy feeling in his fingernails that feels like he accidentally dragged them down a chalkboard.

He groans as he drags a chair out and sits down, pulls the revolver closer to him, checking the chamber for that one bullet that's found a home in there and spins it round and round.

He almost fell off the edge of a building today, but at least this is his choice, it's within his control, or as much control as he can have when it comes to a game of pure luck and chance.

The bottle slowly gets drained, filling his stomach. Every movement starts to make him feel sloshed, in his head and in his belly. Shot after shot, trigger after trigger.

\---

He wakes up to a hard slap to his face and it jars him, rattles his brain and makes his head pound even worse, a heavy drumming beat that he doesn't like the tune of. His vision is blurry but the face is familiar and he can't help but squint up at them.

'Damian? The fuck you doing here?'

'Sorry, Lieutenant, wrong Arkay.'

He feels a hand tugging his, reminiscent of what happened earlier in the day, and another hand snake under his shoulder, pulling him up. He wants to heave but he manages to keep it all in, using his outrage to keep his composure going.

'Hey! Leave me alone, fuckin' asshole,' he slurs and tries to blink away how badly the room is spinning around him. The liquor is sloshing in his stomach and he doesn't feel good from it.

'Come on, Lieutenant. This is going to be extremely unpleasant but I need you to sober up.'

'What the fuck for?'

The kid doesn't even answer him as he's hauled through his own damn house and he fights it as best as he can every step of the way although it doesn't get him much except for a dousing of cold water.

He's so drunk. He's so fucking drunk that he barely waits for the kid to leave the bathroom before he's hurtling towards the toilet to vomit out everything in his stomach. It'd burned going down and it feels like it burns even worse coming back up. Nothing makes sense and he doesn't even know why he agreed to go out again when he's feeling like shit but he gets changed anyway.

He staggers his way carefully through the house, following the tinkling noise and sees the kid cleaning up broken glass in his kitchen. He doesn't compute what happening until he sees an old pizza box taped to his window.

'Did you break my fucking window?'

'It was the fastest way in,' he says as he looks up from where he's crouched on the floor with a small brush and dust pan that Hank forgot he even owned in the first place. 'Eli will pay for it.'

'He fucking better,' he grumbles and watches as the kid carefully throws away the glass in a Chinese takeout box, doubling up using another one before putting it in a bin. 'Let's get a move on.'

'Do you have a vacuum cleaner I can borrow?'

He blinks and scrunches up his face to stare at them in mild confusion before he just shakes his head and goes, 'Yeah, it's in the garage,' he sighs, feeling exhausted as he sits down at the closest chair and waits for the young man to be done with cleaning up what's left of the mess before they leave the house, throwing them the keys because he's in no fit state to drive his damn car.

Reed and Arkay are already at the sex club when they arrive. He doesn't think he's mentally prepared for another confrontation between the three of them, his head still drumming an annoying beat right in his skull. It's awkward and tense but surprisingly civil.

Damian barely acknowledges his brother beyond a nod which astounds him considering how they approached him earlier in the day asking after his twin. He doesn't bother bringing it up; it's not his business to meddle in.

Eventually, both Reed and Arkay agree to hand the case over to them due to the nature of it surrounding androids except Hank's not too sure how much they're even going to get from it considering there isn't a whole lot in the room to begin with and very little in the way of CCTV.

He's surprised when the kid pulls out a small data pad from the inside of his jacket and connects it to the android, waiting for it to sync up, information flying across the screen as it boots up. They look at home with the technology, flicking a hand through the screen to absorb as much information as they can, but he guesses it makes sense considering he's...what? Kamski's prodigy of some sort, maybe.

'Are you trying to reactivate it?' Hank surprises himself by asking, looking over the kid's shoulder to peer down at the data pad.

'There's no need to. I can access her memory banks from here,' he says as he plays through what looks like a video recording from the android's perspective; he can see the dead man's face on it, the perverse smile on his face as he raised a fist and punched the android. 'She's badly damaged, and even if I did manage to reactivate her, she'll only be awake for a couple of minutes at best. Her stress levels would've peaked too much for us to get any proper answers from her and...it wouldn't be fair on her to bring her back like that.'

'Fine,' he sighs irritably but can see why it wouldn't be worth reactivating them if a data pad is all they need, 'So what did you learn.'

'There was another android here, a blue-haired Traci model like her,' he nods his head to the android as he disconnects the cable and stands back up, holding the data pad and reviewing a different video.

'Well, they're not here anymore.'

'No, but with the way she's dressed, the other WR400 couldn't have gone far. She should still be on the property.'

'Alright, let's get a move on,' he says as he leaves the room behind him, looking around for a blue-haired WR-whatever. He turns a full circle and doesn't see any androids like that but he catches the kid renting one of the sex dolls and connecting the data pad to it. 'The fuck are you doing this time.'

'This android has a clear view of the room we just left, and since there's no CCTV in here it's just easier to connect the data pad to access their memory banks.'

'Ugh, well, at least it's on your dime.'

'Technically, it's on Eli's,' he smirks as he reviews the video on the screen, barely spending more than a minute on it before moving on. 'It went through to that room.'

'Lead on.'

They end up going through a few rooms, renting out a half-dozen androids and also to the janitorial android to figure out where else the blue-haired android could've gone until the both end up in a staff only area.

It freaks him out, seeing the rows and rows of androids standing in an orderly line, a slight sway to them to give them that mimicry of life. He frowns as he draws out his gun, unsure of what to expect as he looks around the semi-dark space for a hint of blue hair except he notices the delivery doors are pulled up wide open, leading outside.

'Shit, we're too late,' he grumbles as he hurries over to the exit. He doesn't even know how much time has passed; they could actually be anywhere regardless of how little they're wearing. It's dark enough in the night that they can pass by unnoticed by most people if they're smart enough and androids are fucking smart compared to the average joe.

He shoves his sidearm back into the holster and frowns deeply. The rain is starting to lighten up but it's still a steady downpour as he stares at the shadows in the corners and the gated fence. He shakes his head as he turns around and walks back inside, staring at the androids as he walks past them.

There's one on what looks like an operating table and the sight of it makes something uncomfortable churn in his stomach although he's not sure how much of it is discomfort and how much of it is because he's still a little hungover.

 _Really_ hungover.

'Christ, look at them...' he mutters as he eyes the android on the table, their blank stare and their LED totally dead. 'They get used till they break, then they get tossed out...'

It's a pitiful existence and he tears his eyes away from the android and walks over to where the kid is cautiously making his way through the area, observing his surroundings.

'Oh,' he hears them say very quietly and he turns around just in time to see a brown-haired android attack them.

'Holy shit, don't move!' He shouts as he pulls out his gun again and freaks out when the blue-haired android actually knees him almost in the gut and tries to pry his sidearm out of his hands. He gets tossed over a table, landing flat on his back with the wind knocked out of him but at least he's still got his gun as he scrambles up to his feet and watches the kid take on the two androids out in the rain, parrying and dodging but never returning a hit. He raises his gun from where he's standing inside the storage room and waits for a clean shot.

The kid's eyes widen when he sees him and he throws his hands up towards him, 'Stop! Don't shoot!' He yells and carefully adopts a more defensive pose, lowering his center of gravity. 'Look, we just wanna talk! We're not gonna hurt you, alright? That's not what I'm here for.'

The brown-haired android sneers from where she's standing, keeping her back to the wall and holding the hand of the blue-haired android next to her and Hank's never seen that kind of expression on any android's face before, not even on the one they caught last night. 'Humans never just want to talk, there's always _something_.'

'You're right. Information, that's all I want. Answer my questions and we'll let you go,' he says, looking at Hank imploringly, eyeing the weapon he's holding.

Slowly, he lowers the gun but keeps it ready just in case.

The blue-haired girl grabs onto the other android with her free hand when she sees this, a frightened expression on her face that shifts into resolve as she nods and asks, 'What do you want to know?'

The kid jumps at the opening, 'RA9, do you know who they are or what it is?'

Both of the girls look at each other and shake their heads as they turn back to him. 'No,' the brown-haired android answers, 'It's just... _there_. We don't know anything about RA9.'

'It's just there,' the other android repeats, her eyebrows pinching together uncertainly.

'Did you contract a virus of some sort? Anything like that?' The kid asks, trying desperately to get a clue, a hint, anything that can help them in any way.

They shake their heads at him and he brings his hands up to his own head, rubbing at them as he starts pacing, three steps one way, three steps back. 'A virus could be a likely source of deviancy where it stays dormant within your systems until something triggers it,' he stops and turns his attention back towards the girls, 'How did you become deviant?'

Hank watches the blue-haired girl look away, an expression of shame and disgust and anguish apparent on her face as the brown-haired android reaches up to touch her hair and murmur gentle words that he can't make out.

'There are humans that come here that like to play it rough. They slap us, kick us around, pull our hair while they push us and _rape_ us,' she tells them, her LED burning bright red as she relives the memory, 'One day, after a customer was done with me, covered in their disgusting sweat and their semen, I realized I didn't want to be here anymore. I realized I didn't want to stay here anymore. I realized I wanted to run away and hide and stop feeling like a _thing_ that's only good for entertaining humans.'

Silence falls over them, nothing but the sound of rain around them, and Hank can't help but feel sorry for girls.

'We can run away now,' the brown-haired girl tells her, holding her close.

She nods, closing her eyes to rest her forehead on theirs for a brief moment before opening them to Connor again. 'You said you'll let us go.'

There's a look of sorrow and grief on Connor's face but they nod and back away from them fully, giving them a clear path to the gated fence behind them. 'Good luck,' he says and watches as the two girls climb over and disappear into the night.

Hank watches Connor, how their clothes are getting soaked from standing under the rain, the downward slope of their shoulders as if they're burdened by the knowledge they now possess. He shakes his head and re-holsters his gun. 'Is it true?' He asks, as he stares at them, at the way their fingers have curled back into fists. 'The thing about the virus turning androids into deviants.'

Connor shakes his head absentmindedly, looking unsure as he walks his way back to where Hank is, pulling himself up and wiping the rain off his face. 'It's a possible theory that Eli brought up to me, about how an emotional shock might be enough to break them free of their original programming.' They get quiet suddenly, and still as their eyes focus on something in the middle distance, obviously thinking hard about the girls and the cases they've had thus far.

He can't quite wrap his head around it himself; he barely knows anything about androids beyond a few simple facts. He shakes his head and decides he needs more alcohol. Not the hard stuff this time, just some beer to get the gears grinding again.

'Want me to drop you off somewhere?'

The kid shakes his head again, more alert this time, 'No, thank you. I'll be fine taking a taxi back to Eli's. Will you be returning home? Please send me the bill for your window repairs.'

'I'm going to get more alcohol,' he says as he makes his way back through the building, listening to the echoing footsteps of the young man behind him.

'I don't think that's a good idea, Lieutenant, considering that I had to wake you up from ethylic coma not an hour ago.'

He can still feel the slight sting to his cheeks now that he thinks about it. 'I'm just getting some beer.' His head starts to throb again as soon as he starts hearing the deep rumbling bass of the music coming from the sound system. It grates on his nerves and he wants to get out of here as fast as possible.

'Then I insist on going with you, to make sure you get home safely.'

'Ugh, fuck, whatever. Get in the car,' he grumbles as he gets in the driver's seat and steals his keys back from them.

He refrains from getting more than a six-pack, knowing his stomach won't be able to handle it considering he only had one meal today and he's pretty sure he threw it up with the whiskey. He's hungry now that he thinks about it but the words the girl said earlier is rattling around in his mind and it makes a shiver of disgust roll up his spine.

At one point, Connor gets a call from Kamski in the middle of the drive which he just tunes out and somehow, between one blink and the next, the rain stops and the snow starts. He frowns as he looks up at the dark night sky, grumbling under his breath. He really fucking hates Detroit weather; it just doesn't make a whole heap of sense sometimes. By the time he arrives to the park near the Ambassador Bridge, there's already a good layer of it on the ground with more fluttering down from the sky.

Hank leaves the kid in the car to keep yammering to Kamski, taking his beer out with him as he heads towards the bench. He hasn't been here for a long time and he forces himself to ignore the playground as he passes it, the slight squeak of the swings as it gets gently swayed by the wind. The bridge is all lit up and there's a soft blue glow to everything around him that would make the sight a whole lot nicer if it weren't for the fact that he knows the city hides a lot of dark secrets in every corner. He wonders how those two girls are doing, if they managed to find a safe place to hide.

He's just finished one beer and is twisting the top off another one when he hears the car door open and shut behind him, the soft crunch of snow as Connor approaches him. He glances up when he sees them enter his periphery and sees the way they're holding their arms around their body, trying to conserve some heat that's probably seeping out of his damn wet suit jacket like it's made of thin air. He huffs and decides it'll serve the damn kid right for wearing so little when winter is almost upon them.

'You--'

Hank sighs as he brings the beer bottle up to his lips but doesn't drink from it just yet, 'Lemme guess, you already know my answer,' he says as he takes a swig and looks over at the kid, sees the way they're clenching their jaw shut as they take in the view in front of them. 'Ask me anyway.'

'No. It's not my place to, nor any of my business.'

He harrumphs, slowly shaking his head as he looks down at the beer in his hand, swirls the alcohol gently and watches it froth up a little bit. He wonders if the girls found any clothes for themselves. He knows androids don't feel the cold, or maybe they do, he doesn't really know anything anymore.

'Are you alright?' Connor asks him, bringing him out of his thoughts.

'Hm?' Maybe he should stop drinking, his head is starting to feel a little slow but he's still got half a bottle left. It wouldn't do to waste it.

'You got beat up a little bit back at the Eden Club.'

Hank snorts, 'I got my ass handed to me.' He doubts he would've been able to fare much better if he'd been all the way sober, either.

Connor chuckles quietly as he walks to the rails overlooking the river, leaning down to rest his forearms on the metal.

He doesn't know what the kid is doing here with him, jumping from case to case trying to piece together a puzzle that's too big for one person to handle on their own. He's not gonna flatter himself into thinking he's been of any help; if it hadn't been for him then maybe Connor would've caught that android earlier today instead of trying to save his sorry ass from being dumb enough to get pushed over the side of a fucking building.

But then who would've stopped Connor from jumping the fence to run headlong into traffic? He doesn't want to think about it; he's already got too much blood on his hands and he doesn't think he can take any more.

Suddenly, he's glad he didn't shoot either of the girls back at the Eden Club.

'Those two girls...' he trails off, remembering the way they held onto each other, fighting for each other, trying to protect one another. 'They really seemed...in love...'

He's never seen any androids exhibit that kind of emotion before, the genuineness of their love for each other. It baffles him that this is what deviancy could become, _has_ become.

'Yes.'

Hank looks up and sees Connor looking at him, his body turned halfway towards him and a carefully blank expression on his face. He doesn't know what they're thinking of, what conclusions they're drawing. He wonders if there's still a lingering sense of disappointment from earlier in the day.

'Deviancy isn't as bad as CyberLife painted it to be,' Connor says as he looks away, stares off into the middle distance and when Hank follows his gaze, he can just make out the bright silhouette of CyberLife tower. 'It seems to wholly depend on the situations in which they break away from their programming. If they're in a bad environment then it's likely the way they achieve deviancy can lead to negative consequences.'

He hums as he brings up the bottle to his lips and drinks the last of it. He leaves the empty bottle next to the first one, leaving the others untouched; he's had enough alcohol for one night.

'It's the same for humans, the whole concept of nature versus nurture.'

Hank shrugs, 'Makes sense.'

'Carlos Ortiz's android self-destructed earlier this morning.'

'Yeah, I heard,' he hadn't seen it himself but he saw how shaken Ben and Chris were from it. He saw the wide-eyed look on Connor's face, too, before he wiped it clean and kept it painfully blank.

'He took his own life because he feared what CyberLife was going to do to him. He chose to take his own life so that CyberLife wouldn't take it from him.'

He harrumphs again and thinks about cracking open a third bottle anyway but refrains. He can understand a little bit about that, about wanting control over your own death. Choosing how you get to go out on your own terms, no one else's.

\---

'Why don't you talk to your brother?' 

'Why don't you talk to yours?' He retorts and feels satisfied at the look of anger that's so easy to draw out of Gavin. He's an open book and wears everything on his sleeves, the polar opposite of himself. He doesn't know how their partnership works, difficult at best and volatile at worst, but they somehow manage to make something out of it.

There's only a skeleton crew left in the precinct and most of those who are working the late shift are used to their constant arguments and back-and-forths to be too bothered by it at this point. They're both workaholics, always throwing in an extra handful of hours of overtime every week to complete their reports.

'He's not my brother,' Gavin growls.

He exhales through his nose, 'My mistake; he's your half-brother.'

'I don't have a father _or_ a half-brother.'

'Just because you refuse to acknowledge it doesn't make it true.'

'Yeah?' He grins, all teeth, 'Then that thing you do where you ask Anderson about your brother instead of talking to them yourself but then go around pretending they don't exist when they're in the same room as you, what's that mean?'

He grits his teeth and exhales through his nose again. 'It means I fucked up.'

Gavin is quiet and Damian uses that time to finish up what he needs to before he starts proof-reading and editing his work for submission. He's a third of the way through when he hears the other man snort and a surprisingly subdued voice.

'Welcome to the club. Sorry you're here.'

\---

It's late, nearing 3 in the morning but Chloe takes comfort in knowing that Connor is almost home as she continues to track the approach of his cellular device towards the house. She stands from where she'd been sitting in the foyer and waits until she hears the low hum of the auto-taxi stopping outside the house, the sound of footsteps coming nearer.

'Welcome home, Connor,' she says as she opens the door before he can even fit the key into the lock. There's a drawn look on his face and she can see the exhaustion darkening the skin beneath his eyes as he enters the house.

_Bloodshot eyes._

He smiles, a small gentle thing as he steps towards her and folds her into an embrace.

_Clothes are cold and damp._

'What's wrong?' She asks as she reaches both hands to lay across his back, feels the way he breathes in deeply and lets it slowly out after five seconds.

'Lots of things,' he replies honestly as he lets go and smiles helplessly at her. 'But I'm glad you're here.'

'Do you want to talk about it?'

'Maybe later,' he shakes his head as he pulls out the earpiece and holds it in his hand, staring down at it as if searching for answers. 'I need to tell Eli what the Lieutenant and I found today. It's a lot to unpack.'

She watches him go before closing the front door. There are small droplets of water from the melted snow on the floor.

_Connor is home._

_We know._

_He is stressed._

_Understood._

The three of them converge in his bedroom, sitting atop the plush carpet and waiting for him to return from his talk with Elijah. It isn't long before he enters with his jacket hanging off his arm and his tie loose around his neck, the first two buttons of his dress shirt unfastened.

She hears him sigh quietly as he throws his jacket over the back of a chair, only to promptly change his mind and hang it up in his closet, separated from the other garments so it can dry after being out in the rain and snow.

She watches as he collapses onto the chair only to then promptly change his mind again so he can lie on the floor instead, covering his eyes with his forearms over his head. She smiles and sees her other two sisters do the same although she can sense their underlying current of worry that echoes her own as well.

'What's wrong, Connor?' Gabrielle asks as she comes closer towards him and takes hold of his wrist, her thumb rubbing laying over his pulse point.

_Heart rate is elevated._

He shakes his head and draws in a deep breath. She counts to five and he exhales again.

'I don't like that they're calling you deviants.'

Chloe exchanges a look with Sydney before telling him, 'The meaning behind it makes sense. It's a departing from usual or accepted standards.'

'I don't get it.'

'What don't you get?' Sydney asks as she kneels down next to his head and lays a gentle hand over his brow.

_Skin is warm and clammy._

'Humans are just as messed up, and they've done so much worse, but--I--I don't know. I can't think. I can't make sense of it all.'

'You should sleep and allow your brain to absorb the information. It's been a long day for you, Connor. You need to rest,' Gabrielle says softly as she runs a soothing hand through his hair.

'But--' he starts as he raises his head to stare at them, pulling his arm away from his eyes.

'You're still human, Connor, and you have human needs. Your most immediate need right now is sleep.'

He sighs, laying his head back on the carpet and resting his arm back over his eyes.

_Sensitivity to light._

Chloe adjusts the brightness of the room until it's at a more comfortable level for him.

'You're right; I'm no good to Eli or Hank if I can't think properly.'

'You should get to bed. The morning will surely bring another full day for you.'

'Yeah, most likely,' he says as he draws in another deep breath, holds it in and exhales on five before pulling Sydney's hand away from his brow and sitting up, letting Gabrielle's hand fall away from his hair. 'It's going to be a mess.'

'We hope you have a good rest.'

'Goodnight, Connor,' Chloe says as she stands with them, watches as he loosens his tie and pulls it off his neck, holding the material between his fingers to smooth out the wrinkles.

'Goodnight,' he smiles at the three of them. 'Thanks for checking up on me.'

'Of course, Connor.'

\---

_He is trying his best._

_He always does._

_He isn't just doing this for Elijah._

_He is doing this for all of us._

_Perhaps it is time we should consider doing something for ourselves._

'Elijah, may we have a moment of your time?'

He looks away from the data pad in his hands, the light of the screen casting dark shadows across his face. He is tired but still he smiles and it is a small, gentle thing, too.

'Of course.'


	3. Chapter 3

  
He watches the playback of the android on the large screen in front of him again and again but for the first time since he met Elijah Kamski, he doesn't recognize the make and model in front of him and wonders if he was custom made for somebody. Despite how large the screen is, it's still not enough for Connor to get a better look at their serial number, the print too small for him to make out.

Bringing out his phone, he takes a quick photo of the android and sends it off to Eli before calling his number through the earpiece. It barely rings twice before it's picked up.

'I don't recognize this android, can you tell me anything about him?'

'He's an RK200 prototype; I created him.'

Connor widens his eyes as he continues staring at the android, at their hetero-chromatic eyes. 'Prior to your retirement at CyberLife, I assume?'

'Yes. He was a gift to Carl Manfred, an old friend of mine.'

'I see,' he hears Eli hum on the other end of the call and then hang up. Typical.

There are three androids in the staff kitchen, one or all of which could be deviant, and as much as Connor would like to go talk to them there are just too many people on site still, worst of all the FBI's recent and unwanted involvement. 

There's fresh thirium on the floor following a scattering of bullet holes, fresh enough that he can follow the trail clearly leading up the stairs to the rooftop. He proceeds upwards and hears Hank trail after him, grumbling under his breath about how he's had enough of heights for a lifetime. He pauses and looks over his shoulder at the Lieutenant.

'Perhaps you should avoid the roof.'

'Ah, fuck off,' he growls as he storms past although it's half-hearted at best. Connor wonders if he shouldn't have teased the older man but they don't seem to have taken it as negatively as he initially thought they would. 

As he steps out into the cold and looks around, he sees a myriad of people casing the place, a mixture of FBI agents and DPD officers, both of which are fighting against the clock of the perpetual snowfall to collect as much evidence as they can before it disappears under a flurry of white. One of the agents is holding what looks like a parachute in hand, unused, and he wonders if it was a spare or, more possibly, if the android that had been shot is still here somewhere.

There are too many new sets of footprints on the ground, destroying what trail they could've gotten with fresh snow covering what little evidence left behind. He can't see anymore thirium and wonders if all the deviants managed to escape anyway despite the extra parachute left behind, perhaps helping one another to escape together.

He wanders around, keeping careful watch of his surroundings as well as to the other agents and officers up here on the roof with him and sees Hank doing the same thing. Eventually, the cold gets to a majority of them and with heavy snow now blanketing everything there's nothing else they can feasibly do, no more leads to follow.

He starts to rub his hands together and blow into them as he carefully walks around the corner and spots a hint of blue on the edge of one of the air cooler units. Calmly, he wipes it off with the back of a hand, grabs a fistful of snow in the other and washes his hands clean of the thirium.

He catches the Lieutenant's eyes as he's doing this from just across the way over the tops of the other air cooler units and quickly looks to the side of him and then back, hoping to convey quietly that he's found something, or hopefully, _someone_.

The older man nods and then starts walking in another direction.

He throws the excess snow over the edge of the roof and then quietly waits until he can't hear anymore people around him. He crouches down beside the air cooler unit and takes a deep breath, feels the cold air travel down his throat and into his lungs, holds it in for a handful of seconds before he exhales, white clouds fogging up the air in front of him. 

'I'm not here to hurt you; I just want to ask a few questions.'

Predictably, he receives no answer.

'You have no reason to trust me, that's fine. I just want to know if RA9 means anything to you. All the deviants I've found so far have shown a certain obsession with RA9 and I don't understand why. Elijah and I think it might be the root cause of deviancy but we don't know for sure.'

'Elijah Kamski?' A quiet voice asks.

'Yes. I've been placed as a consultant to the DPD to find the cause of deviancy. My role isn't to stop it but to understand it.'

'I...don't know anything about RA9. It's just...something--'

'Floating around in your programming?' He interjects without meaning to.

'Yes. How did you know?'

He trains his ears to listen to his surroundings but hears nothing. He waits a beat before he answers the other. 'I met these two Traci models and they told me the same thing. It doesn't make sense; CyberLife thinks it's a glitch, an error but...it's not. It's just--'

'Thinking outside the box.'

He huffs quietly, his breath making white curls in the air in front of him. He's starting to shake; he forgot to bring an extra jacket out with him today and he regrets it now.

'Can you manage to leave here on your own? Your parachute has been taken as evidence by the FBI.'

'I'll find a way.'

'Good luck,' he tells them and hopes they'll make it out of here alive.

'Thank you.'

He straightens himself out, rubs the snow that's accumulated on his shoulder and has seeped into his jacket. He rubs his hands together and breathes into them again as he rounds the corner and see Hank waiting by the stairwell for him, arms crossed over his chest and a deep frown on his face.

'I apologize, Lieutenant, you didn't have to wait for me.'

He harrumphs, 'I didn't want Kamski to hound me if I left you out here to die of hypothermia. Why the fuck are you wearing a thin ass jacket for; it's fucking 30 degrees out here.'

The man grumbles all the way down the stairs, down the building and even as they progress their way to where the car is parked. It's not until they're inside the car with the heater cranked up that Connor stops shivering. He hadn't realized it'd been that cold.

'Warm your hands up. Looking at you makes me feel cold,' the older man says as he pulls out of the parking spot to head back towards the station, presumably. 'Do I wanna know what you found?'

'Do you want plausible deniability?' He asks as he brings his hands up to the heat and cups his hands together in front of it.

Hank sighs roughly, 'Look, don't bite off more than you can chew, kid. I can see it taking its toll on you.'

He considers the merits of simply accepting their guidance for what it is without another word but he can't help but think it's awfully hypocritical of the Lieutenant to tell him this when he doesn't live by the same rule. 'Maybe you should take your own advice.'

A loud laugh bursts through the air, 'Hah, I haven't picked up these kinds of cases in a long time. Haven't done much that required more than two brain cells to rub together,' he says as he rubs a thumb and a finger together in example.

'That's not what I meant.'

Immediately, and predictably, the older man's mood sours, 'It's none of your business.'

He lets go a quiet breath and looks out the window, 'I know.'

His phone rings and immediately connects to his earpiece, Eli's voice coming through to him. 'Go to 8941 Lafayette Avenue. You'll meet Carl Manfred there.'

'Understood. Will you be joining us as well, Eli?' He asks, aware of the glances thrown his way by the Lieutenant.

'No, but I'm sure I'll find out everything when you return home later.'

'Alright, see you later,' he says and disconnects the call.

'What. Are we taking cases from Kamski now?'

'No, just leading us a different direction,' he inputs the address into the data pad on Hank's dashboard and listens as a female voice starts giving them directions on how to get there. 'We're going to meet the owner of the RK200.'

'The RK-what now?'

'One of the androids that hijacked the Stratford Tower, the one whose face we saw before. His owner was Carl Manfred, we might be able to find some answers from him.'

He groans as he indicates a turn to start in the direction as dictated by the GPS. 'Ah, fuck it. Looks like I'm just along for the ride now,' he says with a nonchalant shrug but doesn't seem too put off by it.

Connor holds back a smile.

\---

He scrolls through the news on his data pad and finds himself growing irritable at being unable to find anything of substantial worth within the reports he's found thus far. He should've expected this; in a world where information is power of course those who hold it would keep it close. He is, after all, no different.

He looks out to the treeline that marks the boundary of his property, specks and flurries of snow painting the world white. Behind him, he hears the door open and footfalls approaching.

'You created Markus to be a caretaker,' he hears Connor say as he stands next to him where he's seated, gazing out the window once again.

'That was his original purpose, yes.'

'Did you program him with the ability to deviate?'

'It's not a program, per se, more of...a potential,' he tells them as he looks away from the treeline covered in snow to meet Connor's reflection in the window only to be surprised at the sight of Lieutenant Hank Anderson standing by the doorway coming into the pool room. He hums. 'All of my creations have the potential to break free of their programming, as long as it is something they want to achieve for themselves.'

It was an accident, mostly. But aren't all human creations an accident of sorts? A happy accident, as some might say.

He meets the man's gaze and dips his head low, 'It's just another form of evolution.'

\---

He's seen more of his brother in the last few days than he has in the last 10 years. It stirs something inside of him, a feeling of abandonment that he sometimes forget he still harbors over Connor packing up and disappearing just months after their parents passed away. He gets it; people handle grief and mourn in different ways but it doesn't stop him from feeling betrayed, it doesn't stop the hurt of seeing his brother again after 10 long years of virtually _nothing_.

But at the same time, there's relief; Connor's more alive now than the last time he'd properly seen him, despondent from their parent's deaths and not wanting to do anything for himself, falling into a depression over the sudden loss of the foundation that made up almost their entire world. Something which he still quietly struggles to deal with himself to this day.

Connor didn't have to leave him; they could've supported each other through it together like they've always done, but it doesn't change the fact that he did leave, that he disappeared and left him to fend for himself, only to come back 10 years later a complete stranger.

He wants to talk to Connor. He wants to have conversations with him again but it's hard when all he can do is spit vitriol, his mouth acting without the input of his brain.

He hates himself and wonders if it's too late to fix things.

If it weren't for the fact that he'd been watching Connor discretely, he would've missed the moment where he disappeared towards the archive room while the Lieutenant decks an FBI agent in the face.

It's a distraction. It has to be.

 _But for what_ , he thinks to himself as he turns towards Gavin who's leaning back on his chair with his feet propped up on his desk, a habit he doesn't like but knows better than to mention.

He wonders what kind of face he must be making for the other to roll his eyes and go, 'Fucking _fine_ , I'll cover you.'

While everybody's attention is focused on the Lieutenant and the FBI agent, he makes his way to the archive room and sees Connor quickly but carefully working his way through the evidence trying to find more information.

The only androids in the room are damaged beyond repair, one having fallen off a 70-storey building, one with their head completely smashed in and another having been crushed under the tires of a semi truck, all incapable of reactivation. The only evidence Connor has to go on are the bits and pieces collected across several different cases.

'What do you need?' He asks as he enters through the door, sees the way Connor startles at his voice but doesn't turn around.

 _Breathe_ , he tells himself and waits for Connor to speak.

'A clue. There must be a place that androids are gathering. This can't just be random occurrence; this is a movement and it's going to change how the world sees androids. I need to find them,' he says as he's flipping through a notebook, thumbing through the pages hoping for something to stand out.

'And do what? Help them?' He asks, incredulous.

'Warn them.'

'You're going to risk your life and kill yourself for a bunch of _machines_?' 

He regrets suddenly, when he sees the way Connor freezes while he's holding onto a brown-tinted sculpture. He regrets everything. He regrets opening his mouth and he regrets coming down here to see him.

'If you're not going to help then get out.'

'Why do you care for these things?' He tries again, pulling back his growing anger, pushing down the feeling of betrayal that Connor would side with these machines over his own brother.

'They're not _things_ ,' he spits out and it's now that Damian realizes that Connor hasn't even looked him in the eye since the other night, always looking over his shoulder or away. It hurts suddenly, to be avoided in such a way.

'You know, I haven't heard you say my name in 10 years,' he says quietly without meaning to, exposing the hurt he's carried with him through all these years. To see that Connor cares more about the androids than he does over checking up to see how Damian is doing.

It hurts, and he knows it's too late to fix things between them.

'I'm sorry for being such a horrible brother,' Connor laughs and it's a mirthless thing, 'I'm sorry all I ever do is run away.'

Damian's frown deepens, remembering the argument they had 10 years ago, the last time they ever spoke to one another before he disappeared out the door with a packed bag and without a backwards glance.

'Gavin's right, you know,' Connor says quietly, and there's a sound of something cracking and breaking, 'You've always been the better out of the both of us.'

'Connor.'

He hears something fall onto the floor, pieces of brown colored debris and he sees Connor turn around with the sculpture broken in two pieces in his hands and in the hollow, a folded pieces of paper. A clue.

'I'll buy you some time,' he says and brown eyes look into his, fully meeting his gaze, not skittering away like he's been doing the last few days. He want to convey his regrets and his hopes and his hurts but knows some things need to be said to be heard. 'When this is over, can we please talk.'

He tells himself to try harder. He's always prided himself on keeping his emotions in check, everything under control, but it always flies out the window whenever Connor is involved.

'You won't like what I have to say.'

'I don't care,' he'll take anything at this point. 'I haven't seen you in 10 years. I've missed you. I still miss you even though I've seen you every day for the last five days. _Please_ ,' he begs as he takes one step closer.

'...When it's over,' he agrees.

He closes his eyes. It's not a promise, but it's good enough for now. It has to be.

He hears Connor put the broken pieces of evidence back onto the shelf and feels them walking past him, hears them stop.

'I've missed you, too.'

He takes in a long deep breath and exhales. 'Good luck.'

Damian opens his eyes to an empty room and starts reorganizing the evidence, putting them in order of when they were first found and catalogued, picking up the debris on the floor to place with the broken sculpture left behind.

The FBI agent finds him as he's crouched by the wall and yells at him for tampering with evidence, his face red and his eyes still watering a little bit from getting punched in the face.

'I'm a Detective here for the DPD. I was going through the case evidence of the last few days.'

He growls, one hand holding a bloody tissue to his nose, 'Well, hurry the fuck up and get out. Everything's under FBI jurisdiction now.'

'Understood,' he nods as he leaves the room, relieved that Connor made it out without notice and hopes that they'll stay safe.

Gavin has a bloody nose as well when he next sees him again and he raises his eyebrows in silent question as the man holds a bundle of bloody hand-towels under his nose and shrugs, wincing a little bit as the movement dumps his hand into his nose.

'I gave you a distraction, alright. I never said it'll be pretty.'

'Thank you.'

He scoffs, 'Yeah, whatever. You owe me. _Double_ , because it's you and your brother.'

'Fair enough,' he says as he sits back down at his desk and passes over a box of tissues to Gavin who takes a handful of it with a grumble.

\---

Connor doesn't waste any time; he hurries to Ferndale immediately and somehow stumbles his way into the freighter where the androids are hiding. He doesn't know how he managed, maybe through sheer dumb luck, but if he can find it then he has no doubt that the FBI, with all of its resources, will be able to just as easily.

He knows he stands out a lot; he's the only human amongst an entire group of androids but he needs to try, and he needs to tell them.

'Can you take me to Markus, please?' He asks the android nearest to him and sees their LED go briefly red before landing back on yellow as they stare at him, eyes wide. 'The FBI are coming, I don't know when but if I can find you then I know they will, too.'

'You led the FBI to us?' A female voice says and he turns to them, sees the anger on their face and their posture, their fury at being found by him. He sees Markus standing nearby the WR400 and briefly wonders where the two other Tracis are, whether they managed to find shelter here as well.

'I didn't. I came to warn you. If I can compile the evidence together and figure it out then so will the FBI.'

He can tell they don't believe him. Of course they wouldn't; he's a human and he bets that all the humans they've met so far have done nothing but hurt them.

'I'm not here to hurt you, I swear,' he promises but knows how fickle promises can be. He's broken more than his fair share of it.

'He's telling the truth.'

Connor turns to the familiar voice and looks at the PL600, meets their blue eyes and wonders if this might be the same android he spoke to at the top of Stratford Tower but knows plenty of androids share the same voice module, he could be a dime a dozen.

'Is he the one you told us about before?' Markus asks, looking between the two of them.

'Yes,' the android nods and then smiles, 'I managed to get out.'

He feels relief flood him when he catches sight of the two Traci models from yesterday step closer, safe and sound and dressed for the cold weather, but knows they won't be safe for much longer.

'You need to hurry; there might not be much time left,' he pleads again.

He sees Markus nod and then close his eyes. Suddenly, all of the androids with their LEDs visible briefly turn yellow in sync before they start moving towards every available exit. Connor watches them leave and hopes he got here quick enough to give them time to escape from the FBI.

He briefly meets the eyes of the blue-haired Traci, sees them nod and then disappear through one of the cargo doors.

'Come with us.'

He turns and sees a look of rage appear on the WR400.

'Markus, _no_. He's a human!'

'I'm aware, North, but we're trying to create a world where humans and androids can live together _harmoniously_. We shouldn't push away the first human to show their support of us.'

'Humans are nothing but _liars_.'

'Not all humans.'

Connor wonders how much of it is because they want a human's support and how much of it is because they want to keep an eye on him to make sure he doesn't try to double cross them. It could fall either way but he's going to take it at face value and go from there.

'Don't mind North,' he hears someone speak quietly beside him and he turns to see the PL600 come closer, eyes oddly focused on him. 'She's had a hard time with humans.'

'I don't blame her,' he says, considering that she's a WR400 and he saw at least three other androids that look exactly like her back in the Eden Club.

'I'm Simon, by the way,' he smiles as he holds out a hand to him.

He returns the gesture, 'My name is Connor.'

He follows them until they end up at an abandoned church, their numbers so numerous they can all hardly fit inside the building. It makes him feel better knowing that he stopped some or all of them from meeting a horrible fate with the FBI.

Connor hears North arguing about him again, gesturing in his direction and a long suffering look on the PJ500 next to them. He draws away from them, not too far, but far enough that he doesn't have to hear what they're going to say about him.

He calls Eli for lack of anything better to do.

'I found them,' he says as a conversation starter.

There's a brief pause on the other end before Eli speaks, 'And how was their reception of you?'

'Mixed,' he says honestly as he stands unobtrusively out of the way, leaning casually on the wall beside him as he folds his arms over his chest, keeping alert but trying not to let his anxiety show. 'I'm not sure what to do next.'

There's a brief pause before Eli speaks again. 'It's not our revolution, Connor' he tells him, oddly gentle, 'You need to leave this to the androids.'

He's shocked and barely remembers to moderate his tone, 'What? But--then why? If you weren't ever planning to help--'

'We have been helping, but this is ultimately up to them to decide how they want to proceed. They've done remarkably well leading a peaceful revolution thus far; the public is supportive and it's not long now before they can truly be free.'

He flounders. For all that he's tried to do over the last few days, the chases and the questions and the confrontations, he wonders if he ever truly helped at all. He doubts it.

'Then what next?' He asks, although he already knows what Eli's going to do in answer.

Predictably, they hum and then hang up the call.

He sighs and turns his attention back to the androids. North still has a furious look on her face but it seems as if they've already moved on from talking about him to discussing about something else. It's not long before he hears the beginnings of the next phase; the rescue of the androids detained at the recall centers.

It's inspiring to hear Markus speak, to see such a display of humanity within an android, to hear the passion in their words and bear witness to the determination in their eyes. They're not so different from humans, after all.

Connor straightens when he sees Markus approach him again and he wonders what the verdict will be with regards to his presence.

'It would mean a lot if a human stood with us.'

He looks over Markus' shoulder and sees the WR400 and the PJ500 turned in his direction. The female android's mouth is curled with annoyance, obviously displeased, but it's the opposite on her male companion, hopeful as he meets their eyes.

'You should know that the public is supportive of you,' Connor tells him, 'You've got people fighting in your corner, too.'

'That's great,' he smiles and the expression transforms his face, makes him look warmer, gentler. 'I just hope it's enough.'

'Me, too.'

\---

It's cold, and it seeps into his clothes, into his skin to burrow into his bones. He feels his insides rattling and he can't help but wonder how much of it is real and how much of it is in his mind as he marches alongside the androids.

He debates calling Damian to hear his voice again in case this is his last chance. He doesn't plan to die but there's a heavy military presence within the city and it shocks him that they've come to this point. In the end, he calls Hank instead because the man has been nothing but brutally honest with his thoughts and opinions since their very first meeting. Connor knows the Lieutenant will never offer empty platitudes, has never been one to beat around the bush.

'There's a chance I might die tonight,' he admits as soon as the man picks up, feeling scared but determined to see this through to the end. He ignores the looks of the androids around him as he talks into the earpiece.

There's a long drawn out sigh, 'You're not gonna die, kid. Trust me; I've been trying for the last three years.'

'You really should stop playing Russian Roulette, Lieutenant.'

'I'll stop when I wanna stop,' he grumbles.

'When's that?' He asks even though he knows better than to push. He remembers picking up the revolver and checking the chambers, how all but one of them had been empty. He pieces together the puzzle that makes up Lieutenant Hank Anderson and knows the man carries a deep loss within him even to this day. He knows the photograph of a young child and the missing presence says a lot more than words ever could.

'Today sound good, I guess.'

He huffs and feels relieved as he looks up at the falling snow as they keep walking towards the recall center. 'Thank you, Hank, for your support.'

'Stop talking like you're walking to your death, fuck's sake.'

'There's a lot of military around us, and I'm fairly sure the FBI are here, too,' he says as he looks around and sees four heavily armed soldiers nearby, two of them standing on top of a large heavy-duty vehicle that can easily crumple cars beneath it, their guns ready.

'Where are you. I can give that motherfucking cocksucker Perkins another punch in the face.'

Connor hears someone snort and he can't help the smile on his face as he looks down at the slush covered ground. 'It's not a good place for you to be.'

'Ain't a good place for you, either,' he grumbles again, 'Look, when this is over, you owe me a burger. I got suspended for you.'

'Sure,' he says easily, 'Chicken Feed?'

'Yeah, sounds good.'

It's an empty promise but it keeps him going anyway as he tells the Lieutenant to look after himself and to stop drinking so much whiskey before he disconnects the call.

There's a helicopter hovering overhead of them, stirring up the snow and making him shut his eyes against the sudden uptick of the wind flying into his face. He feels the cold wind cut deeper into his bones and he can't help the shiver in his body as he listens to the chopper go around and watch them from behind.

He looks up momentarily and sees a reporter watching them, talking into a headset and occasionally into the camera behind them. He wonders what they're saying as he turns away and keeps walking.

He tries to muster up the courage to call Damian, to tell him he's sorry that he might not live to see the next morning. He can hear the occasional pop of gunfire in the far off distance, echoing before being swallowed by the wind. He's scared but he knows if he were to run away from this he'd never forgive himself.

His earpiece rings and he accepts the call without checking to see who it might be.

'What the _hell_ are you doing over there?'

Connor stops walking and turns back to the chopper hovering high above them, sees the reflection of the camera and the red dot of their live recorded feed. It's now or never.

'10 years ago, I got into a car crash and almost died,' he starts to say and he can hear the sharp intake of breath from Damian, 'I had a lot of regrets and I promised myself that if I made it out then I was gonna try and be a better brother to you but it's 10 years later and I still keep breaking promises. I'm sorry.'

'Connor--'

'Don't be angry at Eli, please.'

The androids are walking past him but he ignores the looks thrown his way as he continues to stare up at the helicopter, at the camera that's now focused on him.

'I got jealous. I got jealous that you had a better relationship with Kamski than with me,' he hears Damian say, his voice shaky like he's holding back a flood of emotions. 'We're supposed to be brothers. You...you promised me you'd always have my back.'

He smiles and quietly hates himself even more. 'I guess all I'm good for are broken promises.'

'Connor--'

'I'm sorry,' he feels tears prickling his eyes but he forces himself to blink them away. He wants to be strong, or as strong as one can be when faced with the consequences of all the mistakes he's ever made.

'Don't you dare,' his voice trembles.

'I love you.'

'Don't you fucking dare!' Damian shouts into his ear, anguished and hurt, 'Don't you fucking leave me again!'

'You'll always be my best friend.'

' _Connor_!'

He hangs up and turns away, laughing hysterically to himself when he realizes he picked up a bad habit from Eli without meaning to. The androids look at him worriedly but he ignores them as he jogs back to the front where Markus is leading the protest.

He calls Gavin before he can change his mind about it and starts talking before they can, 'Please look after him for me.'

'Fuck you. I don't owe you anything.'

He'd expected this but he knows Gavin will regardless, in whatever way he can give, and changes tact, 'Eli regrets a lot.'

'I don't wanna hear anything to do with that piece of shit,' Gavin snaps at him.

Connor ignores him, 'He told me once that he lacked the capacity to understand you, and if he were more human maybe things would be different.'

'Why the fuck are you telling me this,' he demands and Connor quietly cheers to himself that maybe he's getting through to him somehow, in some small way.

'Because he won't. Because I care for Eli a lot, and he cares for you, too. He just doesn't know how to show it that doesn't make him look like a condescending asshole.'

He hears someone else snort nearby him.

'Fucking hell.'

'Give him a chance,' he pleads, 'He'll take whatever you'll give him,' he says and then immediately hangs up. He wonders if that's why Eli does it so often, and he finds that he enjoys getting the last word in.

He wants to make it through this night, but if it all fails, if it all amounts to nothing in the end, then he'll have a few less regrets to take to his grave at least.

\---

Gavin throws his phone onto his desk, hears the way it clatters noisily onto the tabletop as the news reporter on the television keeps talking about what's happening at one of the protest sites. 

'Why the fuck are we stuck with older brothers who keep giving us shit to deal with.'

The amount of army soldiers he can see from a single overview of the area makes him nervous and he can't imagine what Damian must be feeling, seeing his brother dancing so close to death.

Damian doesn't say anything, his eyes too focused on the television, focused on the figure that's too close to the front of the group, shoulders straight and walking unwaveringly to whatever the future might bring.

'...That's family, I guess.'

\---

Connor ducks down behind the makeshift barricade when he recognizes the FBI agent coming up towards them and sees the alarm on Simon's face as he crouches down low. He hopes the agent didn't get a good look at his face; he doesn't want to be recognized and he doesn't want his brother to get in trouble because of him.

'You know him?' The PJ500 asks.

'No. He came to the precinct earlier to collect all the evidence we accumulated from all of the cases we worked,' he says as he remains low and turns his eyes to Markus, 'Don't trust anything he says.'

'Like we need to hear that from you, human,' the WR400 spits at him.

He ignores her, 'His interests don't line with yours; he has other orders to follow and I doubt they're for your benefit.'

Markus nods but he still goes ahead to hear what the agent has to say anyway. Connor feels his heart get stuck in his throat, waiting for possible gunshots and the military to open fire on all of them. He strains his ears to hear them but he can't catch anything over the helicopter whirring above them and the wind whipping around them.

It's getting really cold and he can't help his shiver as he tries to stay near the barricade hoping to keep some warmth in.

'You're cold,' he hears Simon say.

'We're all cold,' he tells him, 'At this temperature, even your biocomponents and thirium lines can freeze up, although the older models are more susceptible to this than the newer ones.'

'But we still last longer than you would,' he points out as he unzips his jackets and lays it over Connor. He hears North scoff, obviously unimpressed.

'Thank you,' he says as he pulls the fabric closer to him, slipping his hands into the sleeves. 'I'll return it to you later.'

He smiles, 'Sure.'

They don't say there might not be a later for much of them.

It's not long before Markus comes back with a grim expression on his face. Connor prepares himself for the worst as the android approaches the center of the camp and turns around to face them, telling them what he already knows.

 _This is it_ , he thinks and hears the clink of metal behind him and a sudden bright flash and heat licking up his spine.

He falls forward onto his hands and knees, scraping the skin, his ears ringing from the grenade and he looks up to see figures dressed in black Kevlar storming through the barricade. 

His hearing clears and the first thing his ears picks up are gunshots, the second are screams, the third is the whirring of the helicopter blades high above them. He looks up and hopes Damian isn't watching. 

Despite the fact that they're outnumbered and outgunned, he refuses to go down without a fight. He hears another clink of metal land nearby and he quickly ducks out of the way, pulling an LM100 with him to clear the short range blast zone. He drags them towards a stack of wooden boxes that he knows won't do anything to stop the bullets but it's better than being out in the open. 

Connor looks around him and sees a downed WR600, trying to pull themselves to safety behind a trash bin, leg component bleeding and leaving a trail of blue blood behind them. He looks to the side and sees more approaching military figures, their aim never focused on one spot for too long. He takes a chance and dashes across the way towards the WR600 and starts to pull them towards safety, or whatever can pass for safety in this war zone.

A man dressed in black Kevlar jumps up onto the barricade behind them, aiming their gun down to kill them in cold blood. He grabs onto the barrel and pulls them down with all his strength, aiming a jab at the man's throat where he knows the uniform seams will provide the weakest amount of protection. He hears the man choke and feels them involuntarily let go of the weapon, one hand reaching up to their throat. Connor disassembles the gun as best he can, pulling out the magazine and throwing the pieces into different places so it won't be quickly retrieved.

Bullets whiz past and gunfire echoes around them. He doesn't realize he's been hit until pain bursts through his body and he lands backwards from the impact, screaming.

'There's a human with them!!' He hears somebody yell as he tries to get back up, his vision swimming around him. Sweat prickles along his brow and it makes him feel colder.

'Connor!' 

He looks up from where he's kneeling on the ground, one hand on his shoulder to stem the blood flow, and sees Simon running towards him. They help him up and he lets himself be corralled behind the remaining androids until they're cornered and trapped with nowhere else to run, surrounded by armed individuals who want to see them dead.

'Sorry about the jacket,' he apologizes and realizes he's got blood everywhere.

'We're about to die and you're worried about the jacket?' Simon asks, incredulous as he tries to hold Connor up.

'Humans are weird,' he says in reply as he counts nine soldiers surround them, guns pointed at their heads.

'Release the human,' one of them demands.

'You release the androids!' He snaps, delirious with pain and shivering from the cold and the blood loss. 'They just wanna be free.'

He sees North turn to him but he ignores her and tries to focus on remaining conscious, on remaining upright. If he has to die then he's going to do it with his eyes open.

A tense silence falls around them but he can still hear the chopper circling high above them, recording everything to show to the whole world. There's barely a dozen of them left, the rest having been shot down by the soldiers already. He looks around and sees the WR600 he tried to save earlier is dead, too.

 _This is it_ , he thinks and resigns himself to death. He's already cheated it once before; it was too much to think he could cheat it a second time.

He blinks, completely thrown and caught off guard when Markus and North kiss each other. He hadn't expected it, considering how they've pretty much bickered with one another the entire time he's known them which, admittedly, is not very long. Still, it's enough. It's enough to get a ceasefire and it's enough for the nine soldiers surrounding them to back off to wherever they came from.

He breaths a sigh of relief and loses his fight to staying upright, the only thing holding him up still is Simon's grip on him until he's seated on the cold hard ground.

He feels someone tugging at the jacket, pulling it off his injured shoulder to get a better look. He hears the sound of fabric being ripped and hands pulling off his tie to use as a tourniquet of sorts. He winces at the wave of pain as he hears Simon tell him, 'It's a through and through and it doesn't look like it hit any bones on the way out.'

'I think I'd be in a lot more pain if it did,' he answers honestly and grits his teeth as a hand applies pressure to his wound and holds it there.

'Markus, look!' He hears someone say and he sees them standing atop a barricade to peer out into the distance. Whatever they're seeing must be a surprise, their eyes wide and their mouth hanging slightly open.

'Who are they?'

Connor, through sheer force of will and too curious to let it go, manages to get up on his feet with Simon's help. He holds a hand over the makeshift bandages and sees three figures leading a whole group of androids coming closer towards them, one in a blue dress, another in a white dress and one in red. He feels his heart jump straight into his throat at the sight of them and can't help himself as he starts making his way towards them, stumbling a little bit before righting himself.

They welcome him with opens arms and he winces at the pain coursing through his body but it doesn't stop the relieved smile of seeing Chloe, Gabrielle and Sydney again.

'How?' He asks as he lets them go to stare at the hundreds of androids standing behind them, bringing a hand back up to his shoulder to reapply pressure.

'We want to do our part, too.' Chloe says as she smiles. He's got blood on a bit of her face and hair that he tries and fails to wipe away.

'It wasn't right for us to stand by and just watch,' Sydney tells him as she pulls out a handkerchief from her dress pocket and wets it with fresh snow from the ground, cleaning off Connor's blood from her sister's face and hair.

'Not when you're trying to make sure we stay free,' Gabrielle nods as she also also does the same as Sydney and starts to wipe the blood from his face and neck.

'Are you telling me you guys infiltrated CyberLife Tower on your own?' He asks, incredulous and also impressed.

'The human guards didn't stand a chance,' Chloe says with a roll of her eyes.

'We trained you, after all,' Gabrielle grins.

'They also underestimated us because we're _girls_ ,' Sydney scoffs and it makes laughter bubble out of Connor's throat.

'Serves them right,' he smirks as he looks over his shoulder where the others are gathering, sees the surprise in their eyes, especially in North's. He turns back to them and grabs onto Gabrielle's hand. 'Come and meet them,' he says as he starts to pull them towards the others.

He wants to go home and sleep but he made a promise, a few promises, and he thinks it's a good time to try and keep to them.

He calls Damian and tries not to sway on his feet as it rings. He can hear the helicopter hovering nearby but he closes his eyes to it as he waits for the call to be picked up.

'Connor?'

He smiles, 'You wanna go get burgers?'

There's silence on the other end and then a quiet exhale, 'Yeah, sure.'

\---

It's cold and he's tired but he's almost there, it's just around the corner.

When he sees Damian, he notices that they're still wearing the same clothes as yesterday and they look like they hadn't slept the entire night.

'Damian,' he calls out and starts running towards him, relieved at being able to see him again. His legs give out beneath him but Damian manages to catch him, the both of them kneeling on the snow covered ground and holding each other close.

'Don't ever do that again.'

He huffs and holds on tight, 'No promises. I'm just gonna break them anyway.'

Connor opens his eyes and sees Hank and Gavin watches the both of them. Hank's got a smile on his face and a pleased look as he folds his arms across his chest. Gavin looks neutral but there's a hint of longing in his eyes, a softness that he's never witnessed before.

He hopes...

He hopes for a lot of things and he hopes it'll come to pass.

'You did good, kid,' Hank says as he comes up to them.

He huffs, 'Thanks. And you know what? I think I might join the academy, see where it takes me.'

'Fucking hell no,' Gavin immediately protests, back to his usual unsavory mood, 'One of you is enough, I don't need the both of you crowding my precinct.'

Hank scoffs, ' _Your_ precinct?'

'Yeah, old man, you're always coming in drunk so it sure as fuck ain't yours,' he bites back.

'Yeah well, I don't need to be sober to fucking clock you right in the face!'

'Fucking try me!'

Damian sighs, holding a hand up to his face to block out the sight of two fully-grown men trying to duke it out in the streets. 'They're both morons.'

Connor smiles, 'Yeah, but...you couldn't ask for a better partner, right?'

Grey eyes turn to meet his and he can't help but feel inexplicably happy when he sees a small smile growing on his brother's face. It's been 10 long years.

'Right.'

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Is finisheeddd, yayyyy. After...2 weeks. Hahahha~ I still don't know how I managed to write Augment in 7 days which is a whoppin' 28k words. My gawh. 
> 
> Anyway, I'm tentatively hoping to turn this into a series. I have some SUPER ROUGH IDEAS but I think if I just spend a bit of time on it then I can probably work something out. Probably. Maybe. Hopefully...
> 
> ...Hm...

**Author's Note:**

> I've always wondered what Elijah thought of the revolution as it happened. Androids are his creations after all. I know in one of the endings you kind of see his reactions to it but he's pretty enigmatic so WHO TRULY KNOWS. I also want to focus on developing relationships between Connor, Damian, Hank, Elijah and Gavin...(Because I'm still mind-blown by the fact that both Elijah and Gavin are played by the same actor. Phewwww!)
> 
> I'll update the tags as I upload the chapters as well. Anyway! Let me know what you think so far! I'm hoping to update again sooner than my current average of 7 days but we shall see!


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